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POPULAE  TALES  AND  FICTIONS 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS 

THEIR 

MIGEATIONS  AND  TEANSFOEMATIONS 


BY 

W.  A.  CLOUSTON 

EDITOR  OF  ‘ ARABIAN  POETRY  FOR  ENGLISH  READERS ; " 

‘bakhtyar  nama;’  ‘the  book  of  sindibAd,’  etc. 


IN  TWO  VOLUMES 

VOL.  L 


WILLIAM  BLACKWOOD  AKD  SONS 
EDINBUEGH  AND  LONDON 
MDCCCLXXXVII 


All  Rights  reserved 


2_ 


Tales  have  wings,  whether  they  come  from  the  East  or  from 
the  North,  and  they  soon  become  denizens  wherever  they  alight. 
Thus  it  has  happened,  that  the  tale  which  charmed  the  wandering 
Arab  in  his  tent,  or  cheered  the  Northern  peasant  by  his  winter’s 
fireside,  alike  held  on  its  journey  to  England  and  Scotland. — 
Isaac  D’Israeli. 


TO 


SIE  EICHAED  F.  BUETON,  K.C.M.G., 

THE  EMINENT  SCHOLAR  AND  WORLD-WIDE 
TRAVELLER  ; WHOSE  NOTES  TO  HIS 
COMPLETE  TRANSLATION  OF 
^ THE  BOOK  OF  THE  THOUSAND  NIGHTS  AND  A NIGHT  ’ 
ARE  AMPLE  EVIDENCE  OF  HIS 
INTEREST  IN,  AND  KNOWLEDGE  OF,  THE 
GENEALOGY  OF  POPULAR  TALES; 

STfjese  Uolumes  are  lielitcateti 

BY 

THE  AUTHOR. 


/ 


PEEFACE. 


rpHE  following  papers  are  designed  as  a contribution 
to  the  history  of  European  popular  tales,  the 
study  of  which — and  it  is  both  instructive  and  fasci- 
nating— has  been,  until  within  comparatively  recent 
years,  much  neglected  in  this  country,  though  its  im- 
portance has  long  been  recognised  by  eminent  Con- 
tinental scholars,  the  value  of  whose  researches  it 
would  not  be  easy  to  overrate.  The  illustrations  of 
the  pedigree  and  modifications  of  our  popular  fictions 
adduced  in  these  volumes  are  the  result  of  many 
years’  special  as  well  as  promiscuous  reading,  but,  no 
doubt,  they  are  in  some  instances  very  far  from  being 
exhaustive : it  is  little,  after  all,  that  a single  labourer 
can  accomplish  in  exploring  so  vast  a field.  I ven- 
ture to  think,  however,  that  the  papers  will  prove 
both  useful  to  English  students  of  comparative  folk- 
lore and  folk  - tales  and  interesting  to  intelligent 
readers  generally. 


Vlll 


PEEFACE. 


So  far  as  I am  aware,  there  is  no  work  precisely 
similar  to  this  in  our  country,  in  which  variants  of 
the  same  general  stories  are  detailed — not  merely 
indicated  by  their  titles — thus  enabling  the  reader 
to  judge  for  himself  of  their  common  origin,  and  the 
transformations  they  have  undergone  in  passing  from 
one  country  to  another,  without  the  labour  of  consult- 
ing a great  many  different  books,  some  of  which  are 
not  readily  accessible.  Dunlop’s  ‘ History  of  Fiction,’ 
though  a remarkable  work  of  research,  was,  even  on 
its  first  publication,  considered  as  very  incomplete ; 
and  since,  then — indeed  chiefly  of  late  years — much 
light  has  been  thrown  upon  the  genealogy  of  our 
household  tales,  by  the  publication  of  such  as  are 
orally  current  in  the  different  countries  of  Europe,  as 
well  as  by  the  discovery  of  ancient  Indian  story- 
books and  still  older  Buddhist  collections,  which  has 
made  it  now  somewhat  out  of  date.  An  English 
rendering  of  Dr  Liebrecht’s  notes  to  his  German 
translation  of  Dunlop’s  work  is  much  to  be  desired. 

Keightley’s  little  book,  entitled  ' Tales  and  Popular 
Fictions,’  together  with  some  able  articles  on  the  same 
subject  which  appeared  in  the  ‘ Quarterly  ’ and  the 
'Foreign  Quarterly’  Eeviews  shortly  before  it  was 
published  (about  fifty  years  ago),  must  have  helped  to 
promote  a more  wide-spread  interest  in  the'  question 


PKEFACE. 


IX 


of  the  origin  and  diffusion  of  folk-tales ; and  the 
writers  deserve  all  praise  for  having  made  the  most  of 
the  materials  within  their  reach.  Those  materials 
were,  however,  very  scanty  in  comparison  with  the 
great  mass  that  has  since  accumulated,  by  means  of 
which  the  storiologist  is  enabled  to  “ survey  folk-tales 
from  China  to  Peru.”  Not  only  have  several  of  the 
oldest  and  most  important  Asiatic  story-books  been 
translated  into  English  and  other  European  languages, 
but  oral  tales  and  legends  have  been  “ taken  down 
from  the  mouths  of  the  people”  in  several  parts  of 
India  ; in  the  Panjab  and  Kashmir,  by  Mrs  Steel  and 
Captain  E.  C.  Temple ; in  Bengal,  by  Mr  C.  H.  Damant 
and  Eev.  Lai  Behari  Day;  in  Southern  India,  by 
Pandit  S.  M.  Nat&a  Sastri. 

Such  a task  as  tracing  through  a great  number  of 
versions,  or  variants,  the  favourite  story  of  Aladdin 
and  his  Lamp  (in  the  first  volume  of  this  work — and 
a Buddhist  version  will  be  found  in  the  Appendix) ; 
the  Egyptian  legend  of  the  Eobbery  of  the  King’s 
Treasury;  the  Irish  legend  of  Little  Eairly ; the 
tale  of  the  Lady  and  her  Suitors ; the  story  of  the 
Three  Knights  and  the  Lady,  and  that  of  the  Three 
Hunchbacks ; and  Chaucer’s  Pardoner’s  Tale  ” (in  the 
second  volume)  — was  quite  impossible  in  the  time 
of  Keightley,  not  to  mention  Dunlop.  Of  those  two 


X 


PREFACE. 


writers  the  former  seems  to  have  been  as  diffident  of 
expressing  an  opinion  regarding  the  probable  extraction 
of  a tale  as  the  latter  was  unhesitating;  the  conse- 
quence of  which  is  that  neither  is  a safe  guide  to  the 
young  student  of  the  history  of  popular  fictions : 
Keightley  being  on  the  whole  calculated  to  induce 
false  theories  of  their  transmission — in  fact,  he  often 
X appears  to  favour  the  absurd  notion  of  their  indepen- 
dent invention ; while  Dunlop,  in  his  ignorance  of  the 
X dates  and  sources  of  such  Eastern  story-books  as  he 
knew  from  translations,  is  very  misleading,  ascribing 
the  originals  of  certain  tales  to  works  which  are  by 
no  means  either  ancient  or  original.”  Dunlop  is 
perhaps  to  be  trusted  in  his  accounts  of  the  romances 
of  chivalry  and  the  early  Italian  novels,  but  when  he 
states  their  sources  he  is  to  be  received  with  caution. 
Nevertheless,  both  Dunlop's  book  and  that  of  Keightley 
(and  the  ‘ Fairy  Mythology ' of  the  latter  may  be  in- 
cluded) are  good  pieces  of  work : a man  cannot  tell 
more  than  he  knows  or  than  is  known  at  the  time  of 
his  writing:  and  they  can  hardly  fail  of  instructing 
the  reader,  and  also  of  inciting  him  to  pursue  similar 
researches  for  himself.  With  greatly  superior  advan- 
tages in  these  days,  when  the  results  of  the  investiga- 
tions of  many  learned  and  laborious  scholars  have  been 
published,  the  present  volumes  are  designed,  not  to 
bolster  up  any  pet  theory  regarding  the  transmission 


PKEFACE. 


XI 


of  popular  tales,  but  to  supply  materials  from  which 
those  interested  in  the  question  may  draw  their  own 
conclusions,  as  well  as  to  furnish  a collection  of  enter- 
taining stories. 

I may  mention  that  a goodly  number  of  the  tales 
cited  in  this  work  appear  in  English  for  the  first  time, 
while  by  far  the  greater  portion  will  probably  be  quite 
new  to  the  ordinary  reader.  Some  ''discoveries’’  I 
believe  I have  made  in  the  course  of  my  researches : 
links  which  were  wanted  to  unite  European  stories  with 
their  Asiatic  originals  or  prototypes ; and,  occasionally, 
hitherto  unknown  sources,  or  at  least  Eastern  vari- 
ants, of  our  household  tales.  In  a work  such  as  this 
errors  both  of  omission  and  commission  are  unavoid- 
able; so  frequently  is  one  story  found  to  run  into 
another,  with  which  it  had  originally  no  connection, 
that  it  is  exceedingly  difficult  to  " pigeon-hole  ” all 
semi-analogous  incidents  for  the  purpose  of  their  being 
cited  in  their  proper  places.  The  tabulation,  or  classi- 
fication, of  folk-tales  formed  no  part  of  my  plan ; that 
is  being  done  by  members  of  the  Folk-Lore  Society, 
and  may  be  safely  left  in  their  able  hands. 

There  are  perhaps  still  some  amongst  us  who 
think  — and  not  so  very  long  since  they  were  in 
a small  minority  who  thought  otherwise — that  our 


Xll 


PREFACE. 


nursery  and  popular  tales  are  utterly  unworthy  of 
consideration  by  ''sensible,  practical”  men.  But  it 
has  been  well  remarked  that  "any  kind  of  writing, 
how  trifling  soever,  that  obtains  general  currency,  and 
especially  that  early  preoccupies  the  imagination  of 
the  youth  of  both  sexes,  must  demand  particular 
attention:  its  influence  is  likely  to  be  considerable 
both  on  the  morals  and  the  taste  of  a nation.”  Sir 
John  Malcolm’s  observation  on  the  same  subject  is  to 
the  like  effect : " He  who  desires  to  be  well  acquainted 
with  a people  will  not  reject  their  popular  stories  and 
superstitions.”  And  I may  add  that  a comparative 
study  of  folk -tales,  apart  from  its  great  linguistic 
value,  is  calculated  to  enlarge  the  mind,  and  when 
assiduously  prosecuted,  broaden  our  sympathies,  and 
enable  us  to  recognise,  more  fully,  perhaps,  than  could 
anything  else,  the  universal  brotherhood  of  mankind. 

My  task,  if  arduous,  has  been  a most  pleasant  one 
— in  truth,  a labour  of  love;  and  I must  not  con- 
clude these  prefatory  remarks  without  gratefully 
acknowledging  my  obligations  to  Dr  Eeinhold  Eost, 
for  the  loan  of  scarce  books  from  the  Library  of  the 
India  Office  and  important  suggestions;  to  Mr  F. 
F.  Arbuthnot — author  of  'Early  Ideas:  a Group  of 
Hindoo  Stories  ’ — for  the  use  of  unpublished  transla- 
tions of  Indian  story-books;  and  to  my  learned  and 


PREFACE. 


Xlll 


amiable  friend  Dr  David  Eoss,  Principal  of  the  E.  C. 
Training  College,  Glasgow,  for  much  valuable  assist- 
ance. I am  also  greatly  indebted  to  the  courtesy  of 
Mr  E.  B.  Nicholson,  of  the  Bodleian  Library,  Oxford ; 
to  Mr  E.  T.  Barrett,  of  the  Mitchell  Public  Library, 
Glasgow;  and  especially  to  Mr  James  Lymburn,  of 
the  Glasgow  University  Library,  who  cheerfully 
helped  me  in  my  researches  at  that  rich  literary 
treasury. 

W.  A.  C. 


Novemher^  1886. 


CONTENTS  OF  THE  EIEST  YOLUME. 


INTRODUCTION  ......  1 

Origin  and  diffusion  of  popular  tales ; “ solar  myth.” 
theory,  1-5 — introduction  of  Oriental  fictions  into 
Europe  : the  ‘ Disciplina  Clericalis  ’ ; ^ Fables  of 
Bidpai  ’ ; ‘ Syntipas  ’ ; ^ Seven  Wise  Masters  ’ ; ^ Do- 
lopathos,’  5-11  — Mediaeval  Sermon -Books  and 
Stories:  the  ‘Sermones’  of  Jacques  de  Vitry;  the 
^ Liber  de  Donis  ’ of  Etienne  de  Bourbon  ; the  ‘ Gesta 
Eomanorum,’  11-13 — Tales  : the  True  Heir,  14-16  ; 
the  Old  Man  and  his  Two  Wives,  16  ; the  Poor 
Poet  ill  and  well  clothed,  17 ; the  Innkeeper  who 
spilled  his  customers’  wine,  18-20 ; Parnell’s  ‘ Her- 
mit,’ 20-28  ; Sancho’s  decision  in  the  case  of  the 
woman  and  the  young  man,  28-29  ; the  Widow  who 
was  comforted,  29-35  ; the  Nun  who  tore  out  her 
eyes,  35-36 — Spread  of  Buddhist  tales  and  apologues, 

36 — Classical  Tales  in  the  Talmud,  etc.,  36-39 — 
Chivalric  Eomances,  Asiatic  and  European,  39-50 — 
World- wide  Jests  : the  Impudent  Letter-reader,  50  ; 

Scot  and  Sot,”  51  ; the  One-legged  Fowl,  51  ; a 
Strange  Animal,  52  ; the  One-eyed  Husband,  53-55  ; 
Killing  a Fly,  55-57  ; “ Small  of  its  Age,”  58  ; Weigh- 
ing Smoke,  59  ; Laird  Braco  and  his  “ siller,”  59  ; 
Hanged  for  stealing  a Bridle,  60  ; Decisions  of  sapi- 
ent judges,  61-64 — Was  Egypt  the  cradle-land  of 
civilisation?  66-68. 

Note : The  Arabian  Eomance  of  Antar 


68 


XVI 


CONTENTS, 


PAGE 

INVISIBLE  CAPS  AND  CLOAKS  : SHOES  OF  SWIFTNESS  .* 

INEXHAUSTIBLE  PURSE,  ETC.  . . . .72 

GOLD-PRODUCING  ANIMALS  . . . .123 

ADVENTURES  WITH  GIANTS,  TROLLS,  GHULS,  ETC.  . 133 

DRAGONS  AND  MONSTROUS  BIRDS  . . . .155 

PETRIFYING  VICTIMS  : LIFE-TOKENS  : TESTS  OF  CHASTITY  168 
BIRD-MAIDENS  . . . . . . . 182 

SUBAQUEOUS  FAIRY  HALLS  : FORBIDDEN  ROOMS  : ^ CUPID 

AND  psyche’  LEGENDS  . . . .192 

FAIRY  HINDS  : MAGIC  BARKS  . . . .215 

THE  THANKFUL  BEASTS  : SECRETS  LEARNED  FROM  BIRDS  223 
THE  GOOD  MAN  AND  THE  BAD  MAN  . . . 249 

THE  UNGRATEFUL  SERPENT  .... 

THE  HARE  AND  THE  TORTOISE  . . . . 266 

Note:  Origin  of  Fables  ....  274 

THE  FOUR  CLEVER  BROTHERS  . . . .277 

CUMULATIVE  STORIES  .....  289 

Aladdin’s  wonderful  lamp  . . . .314 

Note : Life  depending  on  some  Extraneous  Object  347 

THE  HUNCHBACK  AND  THE  FAIRIES  . . . 352 

THE  ENCHANTED  HORSE  .....  373 

THE  DEMON  ENCLOSED  IN  A BOTTLE  : CONTRACTS  WITH 

THE  EVIL  ONE,  ETC.  . . . .381 

“ THE  RING  AND  THE  FISH  ” LEGENDS  : MEN  LIVING 

INSIDE  MONSTROUS  FISH  ....  398 

Note:  Luminous  Jewels  ....  412 

MAGICAL  TRANSFORMATIONS  . . . .413 


CONTENTS.  XVii 

APPENDIX. 

PAGE 

I.  THE  INEXHAUSTIBLE  PURSE,  ETC. — 

Tamil  Version  .....  461 

II.  ‘who  eats  my  heart,’  etc. — 

Tamil  Version  . . . . . 462 

III.  THE  GOOD  MAN  AND  THE  BAD  MAN — 

Sinhalese  Variant  .....  464 

IV.  ENCOUNTERS  WITH  OGRES,  ETC. — 

Bengali  Version  .....  466 

V.  ‘CUPID  AND  psyche’  LEGENDS — 

Bengali  Analogue  .....  469 

VI.  Aladdin’s  wonderful  lamp — 

Another  Arabian  Variant  . . . .470 

Burmese  (Buddhist)  Version  . . .476 

VII.  THE  magical  CONFLICT — 

Turkish  Version  .....  482 


-I 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  PICTIONS. 


INTEODUCTION. 

SOLOMON’S  oft-quoted  dictum  that  ‘'there  is  no- 
^ thing  new  under  the  sun  ” may  be  safely  applied 
to  the  popular  tales  and  fictions  of  Europe ; indeed,  as 
an  able  writer  has  remarked,  “ to  invent  what  has  not 
been  invented  before  may  be  no  less  difficult  than  it 
was,  in  Mr  Shandy’s  opinion,  to  curse  out  of  the  com- 
prehensive digest  of  Ernulphus.”  By  far  the  greater 
number  of  the  apologues  and  stories  which  are  common 
to  all  Europe  have  been  current  in  Asia  from  a very 
remote  period;  and  it  is  certainly  one  of  the  most  inter- 
esting chapters  of  the  history  of  the  human  mind  to 
trace  those  fictions,  which  furnished  instruction  as  well 
as  amusement  to  our  simple  ancestors,  through  their 
various  forms,  to  ancient  if  not  always  to  their  primitive 
sources.  Their  independent  invention  and  development, 
by  persons  living  in  countries  and  in  times  far  apart,  is, 
VOL.  I. 


A 


2 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


as  Sir  George  Cox  justly  observes,  ‘‘  what  no  reasonable 
man  could  have  the  hardihood  to  maintain.” 

The  question  of  their  origin  and  diffusion  has  for 
more  than  half  a century  specially  engaged  the  ener- 
gies of  distinguished  European  scholars,  but  there  still 
exists  very  considerable  diversity  of  opinion  on  the 
subject.  In  Germany,  such  eminent  savans  as  Ben- 
fey,  Godeke,  Kohler,  Koldeke,  and  Liebrecht  maintain 
that  our  popular  tales,  which  are  current  from  Norway 
to  Spain,  from  Italy  to  the  West  Highlands  of  Scot- 
land, are  simply  secondary  forms  of  Oriental  originals, 
which  were  imported  from  Asia  in  different  ways : for 
the  south  of  Europe  this  was  done  through  the  Turks ; 
for  the  north,  by  the  Mongolians  during  their  two  hun- 
dred years  of  supremacy.  In  England,  it  is  contended 
by  Dasent,  Baring-Gould,  Cox,  and  other  scholars,  that 
they  are  survivals  of  primitive  myths  and  legends,  the 
common  heritage  of  the  whole  Aryan  race,  and  came  to 
Europe  with  the  tribes  when  they  migrated  westwards 
and  northwards,  at  some  very  remote  period — just  as 
the  languages  of  Europe  are  Aryan. 

The  ''solar  myth”  theory  is  carried  by  some  of 
our  comparative  mythologists  the  verge  of  absur- 
dity. Eor  example,  a writer  in  the  ' Westminster 
Eeview,’  in  an  article  on  Mr  Swynnerton’s  'Adven- 
tures of  the  Panjab  hero,  Eaja  Easalu,’  asserts  that 
" no  one  at  all  acquainted  with  the  science  of  compara- 
tive mythology  can  for  a moment  doubt  ” that  King 
Easalu  is  a solar  myth.  Thus,  as  the  sun  in  his  course 
rests  not  in  toiling  and  travelling,  so  Easalii’s  destiny 


INTEODUCTION. 


3 


forbade  him  to  tarry  in  one  place.  And  as  the  sun, 
after  a battle,  however  tremendous,  with  the  elements, 
shines  forth  clear  and  victorious,  so  Easalu,  after  a 
series  of  magical  thunderbolts  hurled  at  him  by  the 
giants,  is  found,  shortly  after,  calm  and  undaunted. 
Hence  Easalu  is  considered  as  merely  another  form 
of  the  fables  of  Indra,  Savitar,  Woden,  Sisyphus,  Her- 
cules, Samson,  Apollo,  Theseus,  Sigwid,  Arthur,  Tris- 
tram, and  a host  of  other  heroes,  with  one  or  other  of 
whom  every  country,  civilised  and  uncivilised,  is  fami- 
liar. These  and  similar  fanciful  analogies  are,  accord- 
ing to  an  acute  Anglo-Indian  scholar,  simply  imag- 
ination running  riot : and  ''  if  comparative  mythology 
is  a science  at  all,  it  must  at  least  show  that  its  asser- 
tions are  capable  of  proof.  Is  there,”  he  asks,  “ a 
shadow  of  a proof,  properly  so  called,  of  any  of  these 
statements  ? Can  the  history  of  the  stories  [of 
Easalu]  as  told  at  the  present  day  be  carried  back, 
step  by  step,  to  the  solar  myth  and  its  development 
into  ordinary  folk-lore  ? Has  anything  regarding  Ea- 
salu been  yet  discovered  which  will  give  even  a hint  of 
such  development  ? What  if  it  can  be  shown  that  the 
stories  our  scientific  comparative  mythologist  has  thus 
strung  together  form  merely  a part  of  the  stories  told 
of  the  so-called  solar  hero,  and  that  the  same  stories  are 
not  told  of  him  in  different  localities,  and  that  all  those 
he  has  put  into  one  category  to  suit  his  theory  are  not 
told  in  any  one  locality  ? What  if  it  can  be  shown 
that  some  of  the  stories  are  the  common  property  of 
every  Indian  village,  and  are  told  singly,  in  many  a 


4 


POPULAE  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


variant  form,  from  Kashmir  to  Bombay  ? What  if  it 
can  be  shown  that  there  is  many  another  story  of 
Easalii,  which  the  liveliest  imagination  could  not  twist 
into  the  battle  of  the  elements,  or  the  action  of  the 
sun,  or  moon,  or  dawn,  or  any  other  natural  phenome- 
non that  might  occur  to  it,  and  that  we  have  absolutely 
no  reason  for  not  receiving  them  as  genuine  tales 
about  Easalii,  if  we  receive  as  such  those  quoted  [by 
the  reviewer]  ? ’’  The  ordinary  mythologist,  the  same 
writer  adds,  lets  his  imagination  loose  to  follow  its 
own  way,  and,  presto ! the  thing  is  done  and  his  point 
is  proved.  The  hero  beats  his  enemies — which,  by  the 
way,  he  usually  does  in  a story — and  it  is  the  sun 
conquering  the  storm-clouds  ! He  has  one  adventure 
after  another,  and  it  is  the  sun  running  his  course 
across  the  sky.  He  is  mortally  wounded,  and  gets 
over  it,  perhaps  miraculously,  and  it  is  the  sun  setting 
and  rising.  He  has  a long  white  beard,  and  it  is  the 
winter  clothing  of  the  forest.  He  has  twenty  sons,  all 
minor  heroes,  and  these  are  the  lightning  flashes.  His 
wife  runs  away  with  somebody  else,  on  whom  he  wreaks 
prompt  vengeance,  and  it  is  the  evening  conquered  by 
the  night,  who,  in  turn,  is  slain  by  the  returning  sun. 
What  is  simpler,  and  what  more  beautiful  ? ' Ko  one 

at  all  acquainted  with  the  science  of  comparative  myth- 
ology can  for  a moment  doubt  ’ any  of  these,  especially 
when  they  have  been  applied  to  story  after  story  all  the 
world  over  with  signal  success.  Granting  the  beauty, 
the  ingenuity,  and  the  aptness  of  the  ideas  thus  evolved, 
there  are  still  those  fortunately  who  are  not  satisfled 


INTKODUCTION. 


5 


with  them,  until  it  is  proved,  in  the  ordinary  way,  that 
any  particular  hero  is  a solar  myth.”  ^ 

That  tales  and  legends  of  a more  or  less  supernatural 
cast,  dealing  with  magical  arts  (and  the  phenomena  of 
physical  nature,  too,  perhaps),  in  other  words,  our 
nursery  fairy  tales,  which  are  found  in  almost  identical 
forms,  allowing  for  occasional  local  modifications  and 
colouring,  among  peoples  differing  so  much  in  their 
customs  and  modes  of  thought  as  the  Norwegians  and 
the  Italians,  are  reflections  or  survivals  of  primitive 
Aryan  traditions,  which  also  continue  current  in 
Asiatic  countries,  may,  I think,  be  to  some  extent 
granted.  But  the  case  is  very  different  when  we 
consider  the  question  of  the  origin  and  diffusion  of 
tales  which  have  in  them  nothing  of  the  supernatural 
— tales,  namely,  of  common  life.  If  we  admit  the 
theory  as  well  founded  that  our  fairy  tales  were,  for 
the  most  part,  brought  to  Europe  when  our  remote 
ancestors,  during  the  “ childhood  of  the  world,”  mi- 
grated from  their  Asian  homes,  most  assuredly  the 
storehouse  of  European  folk-lore  and  folk -tales  was 
largely  augmented  otherwise  in  more  recent  times. 

Thanks  to  the  assiduity  of  modern  scholars,  the 
proofs  of  the  Asiatic  origin  of  a very  great  number 
of  our  popular  tales  and  fictions  are  abundant  and 
conclusive.  “ The  evidence  adduced,”  says  Dr  H.  H. 
Wilson,  ‘'has  been  of  the  most  positive  description. 
It  is  not  built  upon  probabilities,  upon  general  and 

^ “ Legends  of  Kajd  Ras^lu.”  By  Captain  R.  C.  Temple. — ‘ Calcutta 
Review,’  1884. 


6 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


indefinite  analogies,  or  on  partial  and  accidental  re- 
semblances, but  upon  actual  identities.  Although 
modifications  have  been  practised,  names  altered, 
scenes  changed,  circumstances  added  or  omitted,  we 
can  still  discern  the  sameness  of  the  fundamental  out- 
line, and  amidst  all  the  multiplications  of  masquerade, 
lay  our  hands,  without  hesitation,  upon  the  authentic 
individual.  We  can  also,  in  many  instances,  follow 
the  steps  of  the  migration  which  the  narratives  have 
undergone,  and  determine  when,  and  by  what  means, 
these  Asiatic  adventurers  were  naturalised  in  the  dif- 
ferent countries  of  Europe  in  which  they  are  found.’’ 

It  is  not  unusual  for  the  first  introduction  of  Asiatic 
fictions  into  Europe  to  be  ascribed  to  the  vast  hordes 
of  pilgrims  and  others  who  flocked  to  the  East  during 
the  Crusades,  and  doubtless  they  helped  considerably  to 
swell  the  stock.  But  the  transmission  had  begun  at  a 
much  earlier  date,  and  many  apologues  and  narratives 
of  Eastern  origin  had  found  their  way  to  Europe  long 
before  Peter  the  Hermit  and  Walter  the  Penniless 
were  born.  Erom  the  early  ages  of  Christianity  down 
to  the  fifteenth  century,  the  intercourse  with  the  East, 
through  commerce,  literature,  religion,  and  war,  ''  was 
much  more  intimate  and  frequent,”  says  Dr  H.  H. 
Wilson,  '‘than  it  has  ever  been  since.  The  greater 
proximity  of  Asia  Minor  to  the  countries  of  the  south 
of  Europe,”  he  goes  on  to  say,  " was  one  especial  cause 
of  the  more  intimate  intercourse  that  subsisted  between 
them ; and  the  greater  parity  of  civilisation — in  which 
indeed  the  Asiatics  had  rather  the  advantage — was 


INTRODUCTION. 


7 


another.  The  political  relations  of  the  divisions  of 
the  Eastern  and  Western  Empire  necessarily  preserved 
the  provinces  of  either  in  a communication  with  each 
other  which  could  not  speedily  be  forgotten ; and 
although  interrupted  by  the  first  violences  of  the 
Muhammedan  conquest,  it  was  readily  resumed  when 
the  storm  had  passed,  and  the  first  Khalifs  of  the 
house  of  Abbas  encouraged  the  resort  of  merchants  and 
scholars,  both  from  the  east  and  the  west,  to  Baghdad. 
Upon  their  decline  followed  the  Crusades,  and  the 
interest  which  they  attracted  to  the  scene  of  their 
achievements,  and  the  numbers  that,  as  soldiers,  or 
pilgrims,  or  traders,  were  constantly  passing  to  and 
fro,  continued  to  preserve  that  interest  from  decay,  and 
were  no  doubt  actively  concerned  in  importing  and 
disseminating  the  lighter  Oriental  fictions  of  domestic 
life  as  well  as  of  chivalry  and  romance.  . . . From  the 
period  subsequent  to  the  establishment  of  the  Kliali- 
fate,  Europe  received  whatever  literary  articles  were 
imported  from  the  East  through  the  medium  of  the 
Arabs.  This  did  not  imply  that  they  were  of  Arab 
manufacture  exclusively.  The  subjugation  of  Persia 
placed  at  the  disposal  of  the  Arabs  whatever  treasures 
they  chose  to  spare  from  the  destruction  to  which  the 
mass  was  condemned ; and  it  is  upon  record  that  the 
first  Abbaside  Khalifs,  in  the  eighth  and  ninth  cen- 
turies, from  Al-Mansur  to  Al-Mamiin,  patronised  in 
an  especial  manner  the  natives  of  India,  and  that 
Hindus  of  eminence  in  various  branches  of  literature 
and  science  flourished  at  their  courts.” 


8 


POPULAE  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


Narratives  of  Indian,  Persian,  and  Arabian  origin 
were  no  doubt  chiefly  introduced  into  Europe  orally ; 
but  some  came  through  translations  from  Eastern 
books.  Passing  over  the  early  spiritual  romances, 
such  as  Barlaam  and  Josaphat,  which  were  largely 
derived  from  Eastern,  indeed  Buddhist,  sources,  let  us 
take,  for  instance,  a work  which  was  written,  if  not 
before  the  Crusades,  certainly  in  the  flrst  years  of  the 
twelfth  century,  namely,  the  ' Disciplina  Clericalis  ’ of 
Peter  Alfonsus,  a Spanish  Jew,  who  was  baptised  in 
1106.  This  is  a small  collection  of  tales  derived 
partly  from  the  Hebrew  Talmud — at  all  events  several 
are  found  in  that  work,  with  which  Alfonsus  as  a Jew 
was  probably  familiar — and  partly  from  the  Arabian 
fablers.  To  this  work  of  Alfonsus  the  Trouveres,  or 
minstrels  of  Northern  Prance,  were  indebted  for  the 
groundwork  of  a number  of  their  entertaining 
though  it  is  very  probable  that  they  themselves 
brought  from  the  East  the  substance  of  many  of  their 
tales,  which  were  afterwards  adopted  by  the  early 
Italian  novelists.  A Greek  translation  of  the  cele- 
brated Eables  of  Bidpai,  or  Pilpay,  entitled  ' Ichnelates 
and  Stephanites,’  was  made  by  Symeon,  son  of  Seth, 
about  the  year  1080,  from  an  Arabic  version,  'Kalila 
and  Dimna,’  made  from  an  old  Persian  translation  of 
the  Sanskrit  original,  which  is  lost.  (About  the  year 
1250,  Eabbi  Joel  translated  the  Arabic  version  into 
Hebrew,  from  which  John  of  Capua  soon  after  com- 
posed a Latin  version,  ' Directorium  Humanae  Vitae.’) 
Next  among  translations  from  Eastern  story-books 


INTKODUCTION. 


9 


may  be  mentioned  ' Syntipas/  a Greek  rendering  of  a 
Syriac  version  of  the  ‘Book  of  Sindibad/  the  proto- 
type of  our  ‘History  of  the  Seven  Wise  Masters/ 
made  probably  during  the  last  decade  of  the  eleventh 
century.  About  the  year  1184,  what  is  thought  to  be 
the  first  European  version,  or  rather  imitation,  of  the 
‘ Book  of  Sindibad  ’ — soon  followed  by  a host  of  others 
— was  composed,  in  Latin  prose,  by  a monk  named 
Johannes  of  the  Abbey  of  Alta  Silva,  in  the  French 
diocese  of  Nancy,  under  the  title  of  ‘Dolopathos;  sive, 
de  Eege  et  Septem  Sapientibus  ’ (Dolopathos ; or,  the 
King  and  the  Seven  Sages).  The  frame,  or  leading 
story,  of  this  work  corresponds  with  that  of  its  Eastern 
original,  but  it  has  only  one  of  the  subordinate  tales, 
though  all  of  them  are  undoubtedly  of  Asiatic  origin. 
In  the  thirteenth  century  this  Latin  prose  ‘Dolo- 
pathos’ was  rendered  into  French  verse,  under  the 
same  title,  by  a Trouvere  named  Herbers ; and  other 
Latin  and  French  prose  versions  of  the  ‘ Seven  Wise 
Masters’  were  afterwards  produced.  Manuscripts  of 
more  than  one  early  English  metrical  text  of  this 
widely  popular  romance  are  preserved  in  our  great 
libraries.^ 

^ The  leading  story  of  the  ‘ Book  of  Sindibad,’  or  the  ‘ Seven  W^ise 
Masters,’  is  briefly  as  follows  : A young  prince  having  resisted  the 
importunities  of  one  of  his  father’s  favourite  women — his  stepmother 
in  the  European  versions — like  the  wife  of  Potiphar  with  Joseph,  she 
accuses  him  to  the  king  of  having  attempted  her  chastity.  The  king 
condemns  his  son  to  death  ; but  the  seven  vazirs  (or  wise  men) 
of  the  king,  believing  the  prince  to  be  innocent,  and  knowing  that  he 
is  compelled  by  the  threatening  aspect  of  his  horoscope  to  remain 
silent  for  seven  days,  resolve  to  save  him  till  the  expiry  of  that  period, 


10 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


Thus,  before  the  tide  of  Eastern  fiction  flowing  into 
Europe  had  begun  to  be  swelled  by  the  Crusaders  and 
pilgrims  returning  from  the  Holy  Land,  we  see  there 
existed  at  least  two  works  of  Asiatic  origin  which  were 
not  imported  by  oral  tradition.  But  even  in  the  case 
of  the  tales  comprised  in  these  and  similar  books,  their 
dissemination  among  the  people,  as  well  as  that  of 
hundreds  of  other  tales,  must  have  been  mainly  through 
the  pulpit,  for  the  preachers  in  mediaeval  times  liber- 
ally interspersed  their  sermons  with  stories,  and  not 
always  stories  of  the  most  edifying  tendency.  More- 
over, monks  and  other  churchmen  were  constantly 
travelling  about;  and  we  may  readily  conceive  that 
a jolly  friar,  or  clerk  of  Oxenford,”  when  he  sought 
and  obtained  a night’s  lodging  at  the  hospitable  domi- 
cile of  some  yeoman  or  simple  rustic,  would  find  he 
was  doubly  welcome  if  he  had  good  store  of  marvel- 
lous, pathetic,  and  humorous  tales  to  relate  to  those 
assembled  round  his  host’s  cheerful  fireside.  By  such 
means  stories,  which  had  their  birth  in  the  Far  East 
more  than  two  thousand  years  ago,  spread  into  the 
remotest  nooks  of  Europe;  and  jests,  which  had  long 

by  each  in  turn  relating  to  the  king  stories  showing  the  depravity  of 
women,  and  the  danger  of  acting  upon  their  unsupported  assertions. 
This  they  do  accordingly,  but  the  woman  each  night  counteracts  the 
effect  of  their  tales,  by  relating  stories  of  the  deceitful  disposition  of 
men  ; and  so  each  day  the  king  alternately  condemns  and  reprieves  his 
son,  until  the  end  of  the  seventh  day,  when  the  prince  is  free  to  speak 
again,  and  the  woman’s  guilt  being  discovered,  she  is  duly  punished. 
A compendious  account  of  the  several  Eastern  versions  of  this  romance  . 
is  given  in  the  Introduction  to  my  editions  (from  the  Arabic  and  Persian) 
of  the  ‘ Book  of  Sindib^d,’  and  in  the  Appendix,  abstracts  of  an  early 
English  text  of  the  ‘ Seven  Wise  Masters  ’ and  the  Latin  ‘ Dolopathos.’ 


INTKODUCTION. 


11 


shaken  the  shoulders  and  wagged  the  beards  of  grave 
and  otiose  Orientals,  became  naturalised  from  cold 
Sweden  to  sunny  Italy.  From  oral  tradition  they 
were  absorbed  into  literature,  wdience  again  they 
returned  to  the  people ; and  after  being,  to  all  appear- 
ance, lost  in  the  revolutions  and  political  turmoils 
that  followed  the  invention  of  printing,  suddenly 
''turned  up’’  again  in  the  jest-books  of  the  sixteenth 
and  seventeenth  centuries. 

Much  has  been  done  of  late  years,  especially  by 
Continental  scholars,  towards  elucidating  the  genealogy 
of  popular  tales,  but  more  yet  remains  to  be  done  in 
this  field  of  research,  which  is  indeed 

Exceeding  rich,  and  long,  and  wide, 

And  sprinkled  with  a sweet  variety 

Of  all  that  pleasant  is  to  the  ear  or  eye. 

It  is  probable  that  fresh  light  would  be  thrown  upon 
the  means  through  which  Oriental  fictions  were  dif- 
fused over  Europe,  were  more  attention  bestowed  on 
the  examination  of  the  monkish  collections  of  ser- 
mons and  tales  designed  for  the  use  of  preachers.  A 
very  promising  beginning,  for  English  readers,  has  been 
made  in  this  direction  by  Professor  T.  E.  Crane,  of 
Cornell  University,  N.Y.,  who,  in  March  1883,  read 
before  the  American  Philosophical  Society  a very 
learned,  elaborate,  and  interesting  paper  on  " Medi- 
aeval Sermon -Books  and  Stories,”  which  has  been 
reprinted  from  the  ' Proceedings  ’ of  that  Society. 
The  first  to  regularly  employ  in  sermons  exempla,  or 


12 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


narratives  to  instruct  the  people,  as  well  as  to  keep 
up  their  attention  when  it  was  likely  to  flag,  was 
Jacques  de  Vitry,  who  died  at  Eome  in  the  year  1240. 
This  eminent  prelate  and  scholar  took  part  in  the 
Crusades  during  several  years,  and  was  made  Bishop 
of  Accon  (Acre),  in  Palestine,  in  1217 ; and  there  can 
be  little  doubt  that  he  brought  home  from  the  East 
many  of  the  tales  with  which  his  ' Sermones  de  tem- 
pore et  sanctis’  are  so  plentifully  larded.  Next  in 
point  of  time  was  Etienne  de  Bourbon,  a monk  of  the 
Dominican  order,  who  died  at  Lyons  about  the  year 
1261 ; whose  great  collection  of  stories,  usually  called 
' Liber  de  Donis,’^  was  specially  designed  for  preachers’ 
use.  This  work,  as  well  as  the  ‘ Sermones’  of  Jacques 
de  Vitry,  is  of  earlier  date  than  the  ' Gesta  Eoman- 
orum,’  that  great  storehouse  of  ''  moralised  ” tales — that 
curious  jumble  of  classical.  Oriental,  and  Gothic  fictions 

^ The  full  title  of  this  work  is  ‘Tractatus  de  diversis  materiis 
prsedicabilibus,  ordinatis  et  distinctis  in  septem  partes,  secundum 
septem  dona  Spiritus  sancti  et  eorum  affectus,  currens  per  distinc- 
tiones  materiarum,  per  causas  et  effectus,  refertus  auctoritatibus  et 
rationibus  et  exemplis  diversis  ad  edificationem  pertinentibus  ani- 
marum,’  by  Stephanus  de  Borbone.  The  work  is  a treatise  on  the 
seven  gifts  of  the  Holy  Ghost  (Isaiah  xi.  2,  Z),  Timor,  Pietas,  Scientia, 
Fortitudo,  Consilium,  Intellectus,  and  Sapientia,  whence  it  is  also 
called  ‘ Liber  de  Septem  Donis.  ’ — M.  Lecoy  de  la  Marche  has  printed 
copious  extracts  from  this  work  under  the  title  of  ‘ Anecdotes  histor- 
iques,  Legendes  et  Apologues,  tires  du  recueil  inedit  d’Etienne  de 
Bourbon,  dominicain  du  XIII®  siecle,  publics  pour  la  Societe  de 
I’Histoire  de  France.’  Paris  : 1877.  The  editor’s  notes  to  the  stories 
are  not,  as  Professor  Crane  has  remarked,  so  full  as  might  be  desired, 
and  several  of  the  most  interesting  parallels  have  been  overlooked  ; 
nevertheless  this  selection  of  Etienne’s  exem^pla  will  prove  most  useful 
to  the  student  of  storiology. 


INTRODUCTION. 


13 


and  legends — which  was  first  composed,  according  to 
Oesterley,  in  England,  about  the  close  of  the  thir- 
teenth century,  and  upon  it  was  based  another  Latin 
work,  with  the  same  title,  done  on  the  Continent,  soon 
after.  ''  The  influence  of  the ' Gesta  ’ on  English  poetry,” 
says  Sir  Frederick  Madden,  in  his  introduction  to  an 
early  English  translation  (made  probably  in  the  reign 
of  Henry  VI.),  which  forms  one  of  the  publications 
of  the  Eoxburghe  Club,  ''  was  very  considerable  dur- 
ing the  reign  of  Eichard  II.  and  his  successors,  and 
quite  equal  to  the  effect  produced  on  the  Italian 
novelists  by  the  original  Latin  compilation.  The 
poems  of  Gower,  Chaucer,  Occleve,  and  Lydgate  fur- 
nish many  instances  of  their  familiarity  with  the 
work.  ...  Of  the  value  of  the  ' Gesta  ’ in  illustrating 
the  incorporation  of  Eastern  fable  and  classical  stories 
with  the  feudal  institutions  of  Europe,  no  one  can 
doubt  who  has  studied  its  pages ; and  it  is  entitled  to 
more  than  a usual  share  of  consideration  as  the  only 
instance  of  a compilation  formed  in  the  retirement  of 
a cloister  which  has,  mediately  or  immediately,  fur- 
nished to  Boccaccio  his  tale  of  the  ‘ Two  Friends,’  to 
Gower  and  Chaucer  their  ' History  of  Constance,’  to 
Shakspeare  his  ' Merchant  of  Venice,’  to  Parnell  his 
' Hermit,’  to  Walpole  his  'Mysterious  Mother,’  and  to 
Schiller  his  ' Fridolin.’  ” 

The  ' Sermones  ’ of  Jacques  de  Vitry  and  the  ' Liber 
de  Donis  ’ of  Etienne  de  Bourbon  being  prior  to  the 
' Gesta  Eomanorum,’  they  are  of  considerable  value 
in  tracing  the  diffusion  of  popular  tales ; moreover,  the 


u 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


authors  of  the  ‘ Gesta  ’ were  indebted  to  both  these 
works,  as  well  as  to  the  ' Disciplina  Clericalis  ’ of 
Peter  Alfonsus,  for  a number  of  stories.  For  instance, 
the  story  of  the  legitimate  son  who  was  recognised  by 
refusing  to  shoot  an  arrow  at  the  body  of  his  dead 
father,  though  his  two  brothers  had  no  such  scruple, 
which  forms  chapter  xlv.  of  the  Continental  ' Gesta ' 
(translated  by  Swan  into  English),  has  been  taken 
from  the  ' Liber  de  Donis,’  No.  160.  The  original 
form  of  the  story  is  found  in  the  Talmud  thus : ''  A 
man  overheard  his  wife  telling  her  daughter  that 
though  she  had  ten  sons,  only  one  of  them  could  fairly 
claim  her  husband  as  his  father.  After  the  father’s 
death  it  was  found  that  he  had  bequeathed  all  his 
property  to  one  son,  but  the  testament  did  not  men- 
tion his  name.  The  question  therefore  arose,  which 
of  the  ten  was  intended.  So  they  came  one  and  all 
to  Eabbi  Benaah,  and  asked  him  to  arbitrate  between 
them.  ' Go,’  said  he  to  them,  ‘ and  beat  at  your 
father’s  grave  until  he  rises  to  tell  you  to  which  of  you 
he  had  left  his  property.’  All  except  one  did  so,  and 
he,  because  by  so  doing  he  showed  most  respect  for 
his  father’s  memory,  was  presumed  to  be  the  one  on 
whom  the  father  had  fixed  his  affection.  He  was 
accordingly  supposed  to  be  the  one  intended,  and  the 
others  were  therefore  excluded  from  the  patrimony.”  ^ 
In  the  ' Gesta  ’ we  are  told,  there  was  a certain  wise 
king  who  had  a beloved  but  not  a loving  wife  ” ; she 
had  three  illegitimate  sons,  who  proved  ungrateful  and 

^ Hershon’s  ‘Talmudic  Miscellany,’  p.  142,  par.  29. 


INTKODUCTIOK 


15 


rebellious.  In  course  of  time  she  had  another  son, 
about  whose  legitimacy  there  was  no  doubt.  When 
the  king  died,  there  arose  strife  among  his  surviving 
sons  about  the  right  of  succession.”  At  length  they 
agree  to  refer  the  matter  to  ''a  certain  honourable 
knight  of  the  late  king,”  who  bids  them  draw  out  their 
father’s  bo^y  from  the  sepulchre,  set  it  upright  as  a 
mark  for  their  arrows,  and  whosoever  transfixes  the 
heart  of  his  father  shall  obtain  the  kingdom.”  The 
arrow  of  the  first  son  wounded  the  king’s  right  hand ; 
that  of  the  second  son  entered  his  mouth ; and  that  of 
the  third  son  pierced  the  heart ; but  the  fourth  son 
broke  forth  into  a lamentable  cry,  and  with  eyes 
swimming  in  tears  said,  0 my  poor  father,  have 
I lived  to  see  thee  the  victim  of  an  impious  contest  ? ” 
etc.  So,  as  he  would  not  shoot,  the  knight  decided 
that  he  was  the  true  son,  and  he  was  seated  on  his 
father’s  throne.  This  version  is  obscure  at  the  begin- 
ning ; but  in  No.  21  of  the  selection  of  mediaeval  Latin 
stories,  edited  by  Wright  for  the  Percy  Society : There 
was  a man  who  had,  as  he  thought,  three  sons  by  his 
wife.  One  day  they  quarrelled,  and  the  woman  said 
to  her  husband,  ' You  think  these  boys  are  yours,  but 
in  truth  only  one  of  them  is  your  son.’”  After  his 
death,  the  man’s  lord  ” sets  the  sons  to  shoot  at  his 
body : the  third  son  says,  Is  he  not  my  father  ? I 
will  not  shoot  at  his  body  for  the  whole  world.  Ye 
may  have  all  his  property  rather  than  that  I give  him 
a single  blow.”  Then  the  lord  said  to  him,  You  are 
his  true  son,  and  shall  have  his  property  and  wealth.” 


16 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


Wright  remarks  that  the  first  part  of  this  tale  bears 
some  analogy  to  one  in  the  old  French  collection, ' Cent 
Nonvelles  Nouvelles,’  51,  ''  Le  vrais  peres.”  ^ 

Both  De  Vitry  and  De  Bourbon  have  the  well-known 
story  of  the  old  man  and  his  two  wives,  one  of  whom 
plucked  out  all  his  grey  hairs,  the  other  all  his  black 
ones,  and  thus  left  him  entirely  bald.  This  is  also 
in  the  Talmud.  Allan  Eamsay  makes  it  the  subject 
of  one  of  his  rhymed  fables.  No.  18,  beginning  thus : 

In  ancient  tales  there  is  a story 
Of  ane  had  twa  wives,  whig  and  tory. 


^ About  the  same  date  as  the  version  of  Etienne  de  Bourbon,  if 
not  earlier,  is  the  fahliau  entitled  “ Le  Jugement  de  Salomon” 
(Barbazan,  ed.  Meon,  hi.  440  ; Le  Grand,  ed.  1783,  ii.  429),  in  which, 
as  the  title  indicates,  the  sage  Hebrew  king  is  the  umpire  in  this 
singular  contest.  Herrtage,  in  his  notes  to  his  editions  of  the  ‘ Gesta  ’ 
published  for  the  Early  English  Text  Society,  cites  versions  from 
Alexander  Neckam’s  book,  ‘De  Natura  Rerum,’  cap.  clxxvi.  p.  313, 
end  of  the  13th  century;  and  from  Zuinger’s  ‘Theatrum  Vitse 
Humanse,’  Basil,  1586  (vol.  vii.  lib.  iv.  p.  1910).  It  also  occurs  in 
the  great  collection  of  John  Bromyard,  ‘ Summa  Prse  dican tium,’  v. 
Filiatio,  end  of  the  14th  century  ; in  Herolt’s  ‘ Promptuarium  Ex- 
emplorum  ’ ; and  in  the  ‘ Sermones  Dominicales  ’ of  John  Felton, 
1431  (Hark  MS.  4,  leaf  256).  The  incident  is  also  found  in  the 
‘ History  of  Friar  Bacon  ’ (see  Thoms’  ‘ Early  English  Prose  Roman- 
ces,’ i.  319) ; and  Geuelette  has  made  use  of  it  in  his  so-called 
‘Contes  Tar  tares.’  Lastly,  it  is  the  subject  of  a ballad,  probably  of 
the  early  years  of  the  17th  century  (reprinted  in  J.  Payne  Collier’s 
‘Book  of  Roxburghe  Ballads,’  1847),  entitled,  ‘A  Pleasant  History  of 
a Gentleman  in  Thracia,  which  had  four  sonnes,  and  three  of  them 
were  none  of  his  own  : shewing  how  miraculously  the  True  Heire 
came  to  his  inheritance.’  The  affinity  of  this  widely  popular  medi- 
aeval tale  with  the  celebrated  Judgment  of  Solomon  as  related  in  the 
First  Book  of  Kings,  ch.  hi.  16ff.,  is  very  obvious  ; and  the  incident 
of  the  two  women  contending  for  bhe  living  child  forms  the  subject  of 
one  of  the  Jdtakas,  or  Buddhist  Birth-Stories  : see  Dr  Rhys  David’s 
translation,  vol.  i.  pp.  xiv-xvi,  and  his  remarks  thereon,  pp.  xliv-xlvii. 


INTRODUCTION. 


17 


The  carlie’s  head  was  now  attired 
With  hairs  in  equal  mixture  lyart. 

His  wives  (faith,  ane  might  well  sufficed) 

Alternately  was  aye  ill-pleased. 

And  so  on,  in  this  doggrel  fashion ; the  ''  moral  ” he 
deduces  being  that  between  the  two  great  political 
parties  the  country’s  interests  suffer,  as  between  two 
stools,”  etc.  It  is  very  curious  to  see  how  the  story 
has  become  garbled  among  the  Chinese : ''  A man 
whose  beard  was  turning  grey  had  ordered,  his  second 
wife  to  pull  out  all  the  white  hairs.  She,  seeing  that 
the  white  hairs  were  very  numerous,  set  about  pulling 
them  out.  As  she  could  not  manage  to  separate  them, 
she  pulled  out  at  the  same  time  all  the  black  hairs. 
The  task  finished,  the  husband  looked  at  himself  in 
the  mirror,  and  was  filled  with  astonishment.  He 
sharply  rebuked  his  second  wife,  who  said  to  him, 
‘ Since  I was  to  pull  out  the  more  numerous  [class  of 
hairs],  why  should  I not  have  plucked  out  the  scarcer 
[class]  ? ’ ” 1 

In  the  ' Liber  de  Donis  ’ (No.  50 7 J is  a story  to  the 
effect  that  Homer  {sic),  having  been  forbidden  to  enter 
the  king’s  palace  while  clothed  in  a mean  dress,  pre- 
sented himself  one  day  in  rich  garments,  and  was 
honourably  received,  and  obtained  what  he  asked ; but 
instead  of  thanking  the  king  for  the  favour,  he  thanked 
his  clothes.  This  is  also  told,  among  many  others 

1 From  a selection  of  Chinese  Tales  and  Fables  appended  to  the 
‘Avad^nas’  (Indian  Tales  and  Apologues),  translated  from  the 
Chinese  into  French  by  Stanislas  Julien.  Paris  : 1869. 

VOL.  I. 


B 


18 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


equally  spurious,  of  Dante,  and  it  is  current  in  another 
form,  as  one  of  the  foolish  things  done  by  Giufa,  the 
typical  noodle  of  Sicily;  of  the  Khoja  Nasr-ed-Dm 
Efendi,  in  the  collection  of  Turkish  jests  ascribed  to 
that  typical  simpleton  of  the  Ottomans;  and  of  a 
learned  man,  in  Gladwin’s  ‘Persian  Moonshee.’ 

Another  of  the  entertaining  stories  in  the  ‘ Liber  de 
Donis  ’ (also  in  De  Vitry’s  ‘ Sermones  ’)  is  of  an  inn- 
keeper who  used  to  tip  over  his  customers’  wine,  as 
if  by  mere  accident,  and  then  remind  them  facetiously 
that,  according  to  the  old  saying,  this  accident  was  a 
sign  of  good  luck  Hoc  signijicat,  alundanciam  guc 
mnict  vobis,  et  bonam  fortunam  ”) ; but  a pilgrim,  to 
whom  this  had  been  done,  privately  opened  the  spigot 
of  the  cask,  and  repeated  to  the  host  his  own  favourite 
saying.  This  droll  incident  was  made  the  subject  of 
a fabliau,  and  from  it  adopted  by  the  Italian  novelists. 
It  also  forms  No.  29  of  the  ‘Kovellette  di  San  Ber- 
nardino,’ and  372  of  Pauli,  ‘Schimpf  und  Ernst.’  The 
fabliau  has  been  rendered^  by  Way,  from  Le  Grand, 
as  follows: 

When  Acre  yielded  to  the  hostile  host 
(’Twas  but  a year  or  two  ago  at  most), 

A pleasant  chance  in  Normandy  befell, 

Which,  as  my  memory  serves,  I mean  to  tell. 

A needy  bachelor  had  dwelling  there. 

Of  worldly  means  in  sooth  so  passing  bare, 

He  once  was  fain  his  dinner-meal  to  make 
On  the  poor  pittance  of  a farthing  cake. 

To  help  this  miserable  morsel  down. 

He  hies  him  to  a tavern  in  the  town, 


INTEODUCTION. 


19 


And  bade  the  vintner,  as  he  meant  to  dine, 

To  draw  him  straight  a farthing’s  worth  of  wine. 

The  vintner  (one,  it  seems,  of  churlish  kind. 

Who  cared  but  little  how  his  neighbour  dined) 

From  the  next  vessel  filled  his  measure  up. 

And,  as  he  poured  it  thence  into  a cup. 

Slubbered  with  such  ill-grace  the  business  o’er. 

That  half  the  draught  was  spilled  upon  the  floor. 

To  crown  the  deed,  with  supercilious  pride. 

You’ll  soon  grow  rich.  Sir  Bachelor,”  he  cried  ; 

“ Wine  spilt,  they  say  (be’t  true  or  falsely  spoken). 
Some  sequent  good  doth  evermore  betoken ! ” 

The  Norman  deemed  it  were|but  labour  lost 
To  chafe  or  wrangle  with  his  boorish  host ; 

His  wit  to  artifice  he  wisely  bent. 

And  thus  devised  the  caitiff’s  punishment : 

In  his  poor  purse  remained  one  farthing  still ; 

This,  with  frank  guise,  as  one  who  thought  no  ill. 

He  tendered  to  his  host,  so  would  he  please 
To  furnish  him  a farthing  slice  of  cheese. 

Up  to  the  loft,  where  all  his  cheeses  lay. 

The  vintner  hied,  but  muttering  all  the  way  ; 

That  self-same  instant  turned  the  knight  about. 

And  from  the  wine-cask  pulled  the  spigot  out ; 

Forth  gushed  the  gurgling  liquor,  bright  and  good. 
And  the  wide  floor  was  deluged  with  the  flood. 

Back  sped  the  host,  and,  furious  at  the  sight. 

First  pegged  his  cask,  and  next  assailed  the  knight; 
But  the  strong  Norman  sternly  shook  the  thrall. 
Hurled  back,  and  crushed  the  wine-pots  with  his  fall ; 
And,  but  that  entering  neighbours  quelled  the  fray. 
The  vintner  then  had  seen  his  dying  day. 

The  matter  soon  was  to  the  king  made  known 
(Count  Henry  of  Champagne  possessed  the  throne) ; 
And  first  the  plaintive  vintner  stoutly  spoke. 

And  claimed  redress — wine  lost  and  vessels  broke. 


20 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


The  Prince  doomed  not  the  knight  to  recompense, 

But  willed  him  first  to  argue  his  defence. 

He  the  plain  truth  from  end  to  end  exposed, 

Then  with  these  words  his  frank  recital  closed  : 

“ Great  sire  ! ” he  said,  this  worthy  host  of  mine 
Foretold  much  good  would  spring  from  spilling  wine  ; 

That  I,  forsooth,  w^hose  cup  was  half  thrown  down. 

Should  soon  become  the  wealthiest  wight  in  town. 

My  gratitude,  I own,  o’ercame  me  here. 

And,  weening  wealth  might  ne’er  be  bought  too  dear, 

I strove  to  make  him  richer  than  myself, 

And  shed  full  half  a cask  to  purchase  pelf  1 ” 

He  ceased  : loud  plaudits  rang  through  all  the  court ; 

No  tale  was  ever  told  so  full  of  sport ; 

All  ranged  them  seemly  by  the  Norman’s  side. 

While  good  King  Henry  laughed  until  he  cried  ; 

Then  thus  dismissed  the  parties  and  their  suit : 

“ What’s  spilt  is  spilt,  betide  or  bale  or  boot.” 

Dr  Johnson  said  that  a tavern  chair  is  the  seat  of  hu- 
man felicity:  ''  the  more  you  call  for,  the  more  welcome 
you  are;’’  and  no  doubt  this  is  very  true — when  you  have 
money  to  spend.  But  “ mine  host  ” can  be  very  churl- 
ish as  well  as  very  obsequious ; and  certainly  the  poor 
gentleman  in  this  tale  did  not  ''  find  his  warmest  wel- 
come at  an  inn.”  There  is  a fine  stroke  of  humour  in 
representing  the  furious  taverner,  on  discovering  the 
wanton  waste  of  his  good  liquor,  as  taking  care  to  re- 
place the  spigot  before  falling  foul  of  his  enemy : he 
did  not  permit  his  anger  to  overcome  his  notions  of 
economy ! 

Parnell  composed  his  once  very  popular  poetical  tale 
of  ' The  Hermit  ’ from  chapter  Ixxx.  of  the  ' Gesta 


INTRODUCTION. 


21 


Eomanorum/  into  which  it  was  probably  taken  either 
from  the  ‘ Sermones  ’ of  Jacques  de  Vitry  or  the  ' Liber 
de  Donis  ’ of  Etienne  de  Bourbon.  It  should  seem 
that  the  ‘ Gesta  ’ story  was  not  known  to  Thomas  Brad- 
wardine,  confessor  to  Edward  III.,  who  died  in  1349, 
a few  weeks  after  he  was  consecrated  Archbishop  of 
Canterbury,  since  he  cites  it  on  the  authority  of  De 
Vitry  (Jacobus  de  Vitriaco)  in  his  ‘ De  Causa  Dei  con- 
tra Pelagium.’  In  this  story,  a hermit  has  begun  to 
question  the  equity  of  God’s  providence — wicked  men 
being  permitted  to  prosper,  and  good  men  to  be  afflicted. 
To  remove  his  doubts,  an  angel  is  sent  from  heaven, 
and  they  journey  together.  The  first  night  they  lodge 
in  the  house  of  a very  pious  man,  and  in  the  morning 
the  angel  takes  with  him  from  the  house  a great  cup  of 
gold.  Next  night  they  lodged  in  the  house  of  another 
holy  man,  and  in  the  morning  the  angel,  before  his 
departure,  killed  an  infant  in  the  cradle,  who  was  the 
only  son  of  their  host.  The  third  night  they  came  to 
a house  where  they  were  also  freely  entertained,  and 
when  they  departed  in  the  morning,  the  master  of  the 
house  sent  with  them  his  steward,  whose  fidelity  he 
highly  prized,  in  order  to  show  them  the  way.  As 
they  were  going  over  a bridge,  the  angel  flung  the 
steward  into  the  river,  and  he  was  drowned.  The 
fourth  night  they  met  with  very  untoward  entertain- 
ment at  a wicked  man’s  house ; yet  next  morning  the 
angel  gave  him  the  cup  of  gold.  Then  he  explained 
all  his  strange  actions  to  the  hermit:  He  had  taken 
away  the  cup  from  the  first  pious  host,  because,  drink- 


22 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


ing  from  it  every  morning,  he  became  somewhat  unfit 
for  his  holy  duties,  though  not  so  much  that  others  or 
himself  perceived  it ; and  it  was  better  for  him  to  lose 
his  cup  than  his  temperance.  He  had  killed  the  only 
child  of  the  second  good  man,  because  since  it  was 
born  he  had  given  but  little  to  the  poor,  and  become 
eager  to  lay  up  money  for  his  child ; but  now  the  child 
was  taken  to  heaven,  the  father  would  serve  God  better 
upon  earth.  The  steward,  drowned  by  the  angel,  had 
plotted  to  kill  his  master  the  night  following.  And  as 
for  the  wicked  man,  as  he  was  to  have  nothing  in  the 
next  world,  the  angel  gave  him  something  in  this, 
which,  however,  would  prove  a snare  to  him,  for  he 
would  become  more  intemperate. — The  story  is  also 
found  in  some  recensions  of  the  ' Vitae  Patrum,’  whence 
it  may  have  been  taken  by  Jacques  de  Vi  try,  one 
version  of  which  is  regarded  by  M.  Gaston  Paris  as 
the  origin  of  the  mediaeval  variants.  It  reappeared 
in  John  Herolt’s  ' Sermones  de  tempore,’  printed  at 
Nuremberg  in  1496.  It  also  occurs,  in  a paraphrastic 
form,  with  some  variations,  and  an  interpolated  inci- 
dent, in  Sir  Percy  Herbert’s  ' Certain  Conceptions  or 
Considerations,’  etc.,  published  in  1652.  The  sub- 
stance of  Herbert’s  narrative  Howell  copied  in  a letter 
To  my  Lord  Marquis  of  Hertford,”  and  printed  in  an 
early  edition  of  his  ' Epistolse  Ho  - Elianse.’  Besides 
transpositions  and  some  alterations  of  the  circum- 
stances, which  Bradwardine,  after  De  Vitry,  allotted  to 
the  four  days,  Howell  (eleventh  edition,  1754)  has  the 
following  addition : ''  The  fifth  day  they  came  to  a great 


INTRODUCTION. 


23 


rich  town,  but  some  miles  before  they  came  to  it,  they 
met  with  a merchant  at  the  close  of  the  day,  who  had 
a great  charge  of  money  about  him ; and  asking  the 
next  passage  to  the  town,  the  young  man  put  him  in 
a clean  contrary  way.  The  anchorite  and  his  guide 
being  come  to  the  town,  at  the  gate  they  spied  a devil, 
who  lay  as  it  were  sentinel,  but  he  was  asleep.  They 
found  also  both  men  and  women  at  sundry  kinds  of 
sports,  some  dancing,  others  singing,  with  divers  sorts  of 
revellings.  They  went  afterwards  to  a convent  of  Capu- 
chins, where  about  the  gate  they  found  legions  of  devils 
laying  siege  to  that  monastery.”  At  the  conclusion  of 
the  angehs  denouement,  we  are  informed  that  the  mer- 
chant was  misdirected  that  he  might  avoid  a band  of 
ruffians  prepared  to  rob  and  murder  him ; that  the 
‘‘  great  luxurious  city  is  so  much  at  Lucifer’s  devotion 
that  he  needs  but  one  single  sentinel  to  secure  it,  and 
even  he  may  safely  sleep  upon  his  guard.”  On  the 
contrary,  ''to  the  monastery  inhabited  by  so  many 
devout  souls,  in  vain  hath  he  brought  so  many  legions 
to  beleaguer  it ; for  they  bear  up  against  him  most 
undauntedly,  maugre  all  his  infernal  power  and 
stratagems.”  ^ 

^ In  the  ‘ Contes  Devots  ’ we  have  one  of  the  earliest  European 
versions  under  the  title  of  “ L’hermite  qu’un  ange  conduisit  dans  le 
siecle.”  Here  the  incidents  are  : a porcelain  cup  taken  from  the 
abode  of  a recluse,  and  afterwards  given  to  a miser  whose  servant 
had  sheltered  the  two  travellers  ; a rich  abbey  set  on  fire  by  the 
angel,  because  the  monks  had  become  lazy,  luxurious,  and  regardless 
of  their  religious  duties : now  they  would  rebuild  their  monastery  in 
humbler  style,  and  live  frugally  and  piously  ; and  the  drowning  of 
the  son  of  a rich  but  good  man.  See  Le  Grand’s  ‘ Fabliaux,  ou 


24 


POPULAK  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


% 


The  original  form  is  found  in  the  Talmud:  Eabbi 
Jochanan,  the  son  of  Levi,  accompanies  Elijah,  who 
had  returned  to  earth,  in  his  travels,  and  the  incidents 
are : The  only  cow  of  a poor  man  drops  dead,  in  re- 
sponse to  Elijah’s  prayer ; the  saint  causes  a carpenter 
to  repair  the  wall  of  a house,  the  master  of  which, 
a haughty  and  wealthy  man,  had  treated  them  with 
little  hospitality ; entering  a synagogue,  Elijah  called 
out,  ''  Who  is  here  willing  to  feed  and  lodge  two  poor 
men  ? ” But  none  answered,  and  no  respect  was 
shown  to  them.  In  the  morning  he  re-entered  the 
synagogue,  and  embracing  the  members,  said,  “ I wish 
that  you  may  all  become  presidents.”  Next  evening 
the  members  of  the  synagogue  in  another  city  sent 
them  to  the  best  inn,  where  they  were  entertained 
with  honour ; and  in  the  morning  Elijah,  on  parting 
with  them,  said,  ''  May  you  have  but  one  president.” 
Eabbi  Jochanan  could  no  longer  restrain  his  curiosity. 
''  Tell  me,”  said  he  to  Elijah,  the  meaning  of  all  these 
actions  which  I have  witnessed.  To  those  who  have 
treated  us  coldly,  thou  hast  uttered  good  wishes ; to 
those  who  have  been  gracious  to  us,  thou  hast  made  no 
suitable  return.”  Then  Elijah  said,  ''We  first  entered 
the  house  of  the  poor  man,  who  treated  us  kindly.  It 
had  been  decreed  on  that  very  day  that  his  wife  should 
die.  I prayed  unto  the  Lord  that  the  cow  might  prove 
a redemption  for  her ; God  granted  my  prayers,  and 
the  woman  was  preserved  unto  her  husband.  The 

Contes,  du  XII®  et  du  XIII®  si^cle ; ’ Paris,  1781  ; tome  v.  pp. 
211-223. 


INTRODUCTION. 


25 


rich  man  who  treated  us  coldly,  his  wall  I repaired, 
without  a new  foundation,  and  without  digging  into 
the  old  one ; had  he  repaired  it  himself,  he  would  have 
dug,  and  thus  discovered  a treasure  which  lies  buried, 
but  which  is  now  for  ever  lost  to  him.  To  the  mem- 
bers of  the  synagogue  who  were  inhospitable  I said, 
‘ May  you  be  all  presidents,’  for  where  many  rule  there 
can  be  no  peace ; but  to  the  others  I said,  ' May  you 
have  but  one  president,’  for  with  one  leader  no  mis- 
understanding may  arise.  Now,  if  thou  seest  the 
wicked  prospering,  be  not  envious ; if  thou  seest  the 
righteous  in  poverty  and  trouble,  be  not  provoked  or 
doubtful  of  God’s  justice.”  ^ 

Another  talmudic  legend  is  related  of  Moses  while 
on  Mount  Sinai:  Moses  having  complained  of  the 
impunity  of  vice  and  its  success  in  this  world,  and  the 
frequent  sufferings  of  the  innocent,  the  Lord  took  him 
to  a rock  which  projected  from  the  mountain,  where 
he  could  overlook  the  plain  of  the  desert  stretching  at 
his  feet.  On  one  of  the  oases  he  beheld  a young  Arab 
asleep.  He  awoke,  and  leaving  behind  him  a bag  of 
pearls,  he  sprang  into  his  saddle,  and  rapidly  disap- 
peared from  the  horizon.  Another  Arab  came  to  the 
oasis ; he  discovered  the  pearls,  took  them,  and  went 
away  in  the  opposite  direction.  Now  an  aged  wan- 
derer, leaning  on  his  staff,  bent  his  weary  steps 
towards  the  shady  spot.  He  laid  himself  down  and 
went  asleep ; but  scarcely  had  he  closed  his  eyes  when 
he  was  rudely  roused  from  his  slumber:  the  young 
^ ‘ The  Talmud  ’ (selections  translated),  by  H.  Polano,  p.  313. 


26 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


Arab  had  returned  and  demanded  his  pearls.  The 
hoary  man  replied  that  he  had  not  taken  them.  The 
other  grew  enraged,  and  accused  him  of  theft.  He 
swore  that  he  had  not  seen  the  treasure,  but  the  other 
seized  him,  and  a scuffle  ensued.  The  young  Arab 
drew  his  sword,  and  plunged  it  into  the  breast  of  the 
aged  man,  who  fell  lifeless  on  the  earth.  ''  0 Lord,  is 
this  justice  ? exclaimed  Moses  in  horror.  “ Be  silent !” 
said  the  Lord.  ''  Behold,  this  man,  whose  blood  is 
now  mingling  with  the  waters  of  the  desert,  many 
years  ago,  secretly  and  on  the  same  spot,  murdered 
the  father  of  the  youth  who  has  now  slain  him.  His 
crime  remained  concealed  from  man : but  vengeance 
is  mine ; I will  repay.”  ^ 

From  some  of  the  Arabian  Jews  it  is  probable  that 
Muhammed  derived  the  story,  which  he  reproduces  in 
the  eighteenth  chapter  of  the  Kur’an,  where  it  is  told, 
with  variations,  of  Moses  and  the  prophet  Khizar.^  In 
the  course  of  their  wanderings  they  came  to  the  sea- 
side, where  they  went  up  into  a ship,  and  Khizar  made 
a hole  therein.  Then  they  met  a youth,  and  he  slew 
him.  Coming  to  a city,  they  were  refused  food  by  the 

^ Dr  W^eil’s  ‘ The  Bible,  the  Koran,  and  the  Talmud,’  pp.  134,  135  ; 
note  by  English  translator.  See  also  Lane’s  ‘Arabian  Nights,’  ii.  577. 

2 According  to  the  Eastern  legend,  Khizar  was  despatched  by  an 
ancient  Persian  king  to  procure  him  some  of  the  Water  of  Life. 
After  a tedious  journey,  he  reached  the  Fountain  of  Immortality, 
and  having  drank  of  its  waters,  they  suddenly  vanished.  It  is 
believed  that  Khizar  still  lives,  and  occasionally  appears  to  favoured 
individuals,  always  clothed  in  green,  and  acts  as  their  guide  in  diffi- 
cult adventures.  Khizar  is  often  confounded  with  Moses,  Elias,  and 
even  St  George.  The  name  Khizar  signifies  green. — From  my  ‘ Book 
of  Sindibfid,’  p.  41. 


INTRODUCTION. 


27 


inhabitants ; and  Khizar,  seeing  a wall  that  was  ready 
to  fall  down,  set  it  upright.  Moses  desires  an  explana- 
tion of  these  things,  and  he  is  told  that  the  vessel 
belonged  to  certain  poor  men  who  did  their  business 
in  the  sea ; and  Khizar  rendered  it  unserviceable 
because  a king  took  every  sound  ship  for  his  own  use. 
As  to  the  youth,  his  parents  were  true  believers,  and 
he,  being  an  unbeliever,  was  slain,  lest  his  parents 
should  suffer  from  his  perverseness  and  ingratitude. 
The  wall  belonged  to  two  orphan  youths  in  the  city, 
and  in  it  was  a treasure  hidden  that  belonged  to  them ; 
their  father  was  a righteous  man,  and  the  Lord  was 
pleased  that  they  should  attain  their  full  age,  and 
take  forth  their  treasure.  In  the  Turkish  book  of  the 
‘ Forty  Vazirs,’  this  Muslim  version  is  reproduced  as 
the  Lady's  29th  Tale. 

Parnell's  poems  were  first  published  by  Pope  in 
1721,  two  years  after  the  author’s  death.  The  inven- 
tion of  the  tale  of  the  ' Hermit ' had  been  generally, 
credited  to  Parnell  till  Goldsmith  wrote  his  Life,  pre- 
fixed to  an  enlarged  edition  of  his  poems,  in  1773. 
From  Pope,  in  Spence's  Anecdotes,  Goldsmith  relates 
(and  the  opinion  is  adopted  implicitly  by  Johnson) 
that  the  story  was  written  originally  in  Spanish, 
whence,  probably,  Howell  translated  it  into  prose,  and 
inserted  it  in  his  letters.  He  adds  that  ''  Dr  Henry 
More,  in  his  ' Dialogues,'  has  the  very  same  story," 
and  that  he  ''  had  been  informed  by  some  that  it  is 
originally  of  Arabian  invention."  We  have  seen, 
however,  that  it  is  of  Hebrew  origin,  so  far  as  has 


28 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


been  ascertained;  and  Parnell  doubtless  found  it  in 
the  English  translation  of  the  'Gesta  Eomanorum' 
published  in  1703.  Voltaire  reproduces  this  famous 
story  in  his  ' Zadig/  chapter  xvii.,  where  the  ''  philo- 
sopher ” accompanies  an  angel  disguised  as  a hermit, 
who  steals  a gold  cup  from  a man  who  was  ostenta- 
tious of  his  wealth  and  hospitality,  and  gives  it  to  a 
miserly  old  fellow;  burns  down  the  house  of  a man 
who  had  treated  them  kindly ; and  drowns  the  nephew 
of  a widow  who  had  entertained  them  most  honourably. 
The  angel  explains  to  Zadig  that  the  cup  was  taken 
from  the  owner  in  order  to  reform  his  pride,  and  given 
to  the  miserly  man  to  excite  his  generosity ; the  good 
man  finds  a treasure  beneath  the  ashes  of  his  burned 
house ; and  the  widow’s  son,  had  he  lived  another 
year,  would  have  been  her  murderer.  Some  have 
supposed  that  Voltaire  copied  his  apologue  from  Par- 
nell ; but  the  same  story  had  previously  been  employed 
by  Antoinette  Bourignon  the  mystic.  It  is  not  un- 
likely that  Jacques  de  Vitry,  who  seems  to  have  first 
introduced  it  into  Europe,  heard  the  story  while  he 
was  in  Syria.^ 

The  stratagem  employed  by  Sancho  Panza,  while 
governor  of  Barrataria  ('  Don  Quixote,’  ii.  45),  to  dis- 
cover whether  a young  man  had  done  violence  to  a 
certain  woman,  is  found  in  Jacques  de  Vitry  and 
Etienne  de  Bourbon.  This  is  also  in  Wright’s  Latin 

^ This  legend  has  become  a popular  tale  : see  the  ‘ Sicilianische 
Marchen’  of  Laura  von  Gonzenbach,  No.  92,  and  De  Trueba,  ^Narra- 
ciones  populares,’  p.  65. 


INTKODUCTION. 


29 


Stories  (No.  20),  edited  for  the  Percy  Society,  where 
it  is  thus  related : I have  heard  of  a certain  woman, 
who  was  complaining  before  a judge  of  a certain  young 
man,  who,  so  she  said,  had  overpowered  and  violated 
her.  The  youth  denied  the  charge.  ''  Give  her,’’  said 
the  judge  to  him,  ten  marks  of  silver,  as  a recompense 
for  the  violence  you  have  offered  her.”  Having  got 
the  money,  she  went  off  joyful.  Then  the  judge  said 
to  the  youth,  ''  Follow  her,  and  take  the  money  from 
her.”  The  young  man  tried  to  fulfil  the  command  of 
the  judge,  and  to  take  the  money  from  her.  But  she 
began  bravely  to  beat  him  off,  and  to  call  out,  and 
many  people  running  up,  he  was  unable  to  hurt  her. 
Both  were  again  brought  before  the  judge.  “Woman,” 
said  he,  “ what  is  the  matter  with  you  ? What  do  you 
want  ? Why  were  you  clamouring  so  loudly  ? ” She 
said,  “Because,  my  lord,  he  was  trying  to  take  my 
money  from  me ; but  I beat  him  off  bravely,  and  cried 
out  so  that  he  could  not  succeed.”  “ Then,”  said  the 
judge,  “ give  the  money  back  to  the  youth ; for  if  you 
had  beaten  him  off  and  called  out  so  bravely  before,  he 
could  never  have  violated  you : you  love  money  more 
than  purity.”  This  is  imitated  in  the  Italian  novels 
of  Malespini,  Part  ii.  No.  56,  and  in  the  ‘ Cent  Nouvelles 
Nouvelles,’  25,  “ Forcee  de  Gre.”  That  the  story  is  of 
Asiatic  origin  seems  probable  from  its  being  one  of  the 
Pleasing  Tales  in  Gladwin’s  ‘ Persian  Moonshee,’  and 
from  its  occurring  in  several  Indian  story-books, 
r The  famous  tale  of  the  Widow  who  was  Comforted 
which  forms  one  of  the  stories  of  the  ‘ Seven  Wise 


30 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


Masters/  though  it  does  not  occur  in  the  oldest  Euro- 
pean version  of  the  romance,  the  Latin  ' Dolopathos,' 
is  found  in  the  ‘ Sermones  de  tempore  et  sanctis  ’ of 
Jacques  de  Vitry,  and  the  ‘Liber  de  Donis  ’ of  Etienne 
de  Bourbon.  A man  who  was  very  fond  of  his  wife, 
while  jesting  with  her  one  day,  chanced  to  wound  her 
slightly  in  the  hand,  at  which  he  was  so  grieved  that 
he  died  the  following  day.  His  widow  was  incon- 
solable ; and  after  he  was  buried,  she  took  up  her 
abode  beside  his  grave,  and,  refusing  food,  continued 
weeping  and  wringing  her  hands.  When  night  came 
on,  she  made  a good  fire,  for  the  weather  was  very 
cold.  Now  the  bodies  of  three  thieves  were  hanging 
on  gibbets  not  far  from  the  place,  and  a knight  had 
to  watch  that  they  were  not  stolen  by  their  friends,  as 
quit-rent  for  his  lands.  Seeing  the  bright  fire,  he 
alighted  from  his  horse,  and  approached  to  warm 
himself.  He  was  both  young  and  comely,  and  the 
widow  was  induced  by  his  soothing  speeches  to  abate 
somewhat  of  her  excessive  sorrow,  and  partake  of  some 
food  which  he  pressed  on  her ; then,  fortified  with  a 
draught  of  wine,  she  yielded  him  her  love.  After  a 
time,  the  knight  quitted  the  widow  whom  he  had 
comforted,  and  returned  to  his  ghastly  charge,  when, 
to  his  dismay,  he  discovered  that  one  of  the  bodies  had 
been  taken  away.  Going  back  to  the  widow,  he  told 
her  that  in  consequence  of  this  he  should  lose  his 
lands.  She  bade  him  be  of  good  cheer,  for  his  heritage 
need  not  be  lost  for  such  a trifling  matter ; he  had  only 
to  take  up  the  body  of  her  husband  and  hang  it  in 


INTKODUCTION. 


31 


place  of  that  of  the  thief  which  had  been  stolen.  But, 
says  the  knight,  the  thief  had  a great  wound  on  his 
head.  She  replied,  that  he  should  make  a similar 
wound  on  the  head  of  her  husband.  Nay,  quoth  the 
knight,  I could  never  strike  a dead  man ; whereupon 
the  widow  took  a sharp  knife  and  wounded  the  head 
of  her  husband : and  when  the  knight  recollected  that 
the  thief  had  lost  two  of  his  front  teeth,  she  imme- 
diately knocked  out  two  of  her  husband’s  teeth  with 
a stone.  The  body  being  hung  on  the  gallows,  the 
knight,  according  to  some  versions,  sternly  upbraided 
the  widow  for  her  levity  and  heartlessness,  since  her 
husband  had  died  because  he  had  accidentally  shed  a 
few  drops  of  her  blood,  but  she  had  not  scrupled  to 
mutilate  his  body,  and  so  he  would  not  unite  himself 
to  such  a wanton.^ 

This  was  a favourite  story  of  the  raconteurs  during 
the  Middle  Ages.  The  incident  is  the  subject  of  a 
fabliau  entitled  De  la  femme  qui  se  fist  putain  sur 
la  fosse  de  son  mari,”  and  Keller  refers  to  many  other 
versions  in  his  “ Einleitung,”  pp.  clix-clxvii,  to  the 
‘ Eomans  des  Sept  Sages.’  ^ It  has  been  borrowed  from 

^ In  the  ‘ Liber  de  Donis  ’ of  Etienne  de  Bourbon — who  avowedly 
took  the  story  from  Jacques  de  Vitry — the  body  of  the  husband  is 
not  said  to  have  been  mutilated  ; but  in  another  version  of  the  same 
date,  given  by  M.  Lecoy  de  la  Marche,  in  ‘ La  Chaire  fran9aise  du 
moyen  age,  specialement  au  treizieme  siecle,’  &c.,  in  order  that  the 
body  should  correspond  to  that  of  the  robber,  a foot  is  cut  off,  an  eye 
is  plucked  out,  and  the  hair  pulled  off  the  head  by  ‘‘  the  widow  who 
was  comforted.” 

2 It  is  found  in  the  Talmud  : When  the  widow  is  informed  that 
the  corpse  has  been  taken  away,  she  says,  Don’t  be  alarmed  ; 


32 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


the  episode  of  the  Matron  of  Ephesus,  in  Petronius 
Arbiter,  where  the  grief  - stricken  widow,  with  her 
faithful  maid,  is  represented  as  sitting  in  her  husband’s 
sepulchre  with  dishevelled  hair  and  beating  her  bosom. 
The  cause  of  her  husband’s  death  is  not  mentioned. 
Her  relatives  and  friends  in  vain  endeavoured  to  dis- 
suade her  from  her  evident  design  of  starving  herself 
to  death.  All  Ephesus  bewailed  the  exemplary  woman, 
who  had  been  five  days  without  food ; when  a soldier, 
who  was  guarding  the  bodies  of  some  robbers  crucified 
close  by,  observing  the  light  of  the  lamp  that  burned 
in  the  tomb,  was  led  to  the  spot  by  curiosity,  and  so 
on.  The  wounding  of  the  husband’s  body  does  not 
occur.  The  story  concludes  with  these  verses : 

Give  not  your  bark  to  the  winds,  nor  your  heart  to  the  fair  ; 

More  perfidious  are  they  than  the  winds  or  the  sea. 

They  are  all  of  them  naught : if  a good  one  was  e’er, 

How  a bad  thing  came  good  is  a riddle  to  me. 

Voltaire’s  tale  of  The  Nose  in  ' Zadig  ’ is  similar  to  that 
of  the  Ephesian  Widow,  though  he  derived  it  from  a 
different  source:  A lady  had  vowed  she  would  not 
marry  a second  husband  so  long  as  the  rivulet  con- 
tinued to  flow  past  the  grave  of  her  lately  deceased 
spouse,  and  was  busy  contriving  to  turn  its  course. 

exhume  the  body  of  my  husband,  and  hang  it  up  instead.” — 
(Hershon’s  ^ Talmudic  Miscellany,’  p.  28,  par.  30.)  It  occurs  in  the 
‘ Cento  Novelle  Antiche,’  the  first  collection  of  Italian  tales.  Eustace 
Deschamps  reproduces  it  (14th  century) ; St  Evremonde,  Lamote, 
and  Fuselier  each  made  it  the  subject  of  a comedy  ; it  reappears  in 
La  Fontaine  ; it  was  taken  into  ^sop  by  Ogilvy  ; and  Jeremy 
Taylor  tells  it  in  his  ‘ Holy  Dying.’ 


INTRODUCTION. 


33 


Zadig’s  wife  tells  him  of  this,  and  professes  her  disgust 
at  such  heartlessness.  Zadig,  not  long  after,  pretends 
to  have  died  suddenly ; his  intimate  friend  visits  the 
sorrowing  lady,  makes  love  to  her,  falls  suddenly  ill — 
the  only  cure  is  the  nose  of  a dead  man  applied  to  the 
affected  part ; the  lady  takes  a sharp  knife,  and  repairs 
to  her  husband’s  tomb,  with  the  intention  of  cutting  off 
his  nose,  but  Zadig  gets  up  and  scoffs  at  his  wife’s 
hollow  professions  of  affection. 

This  Voltaire  adapted  from  a tale  related  in  Du 
Halde’s  ' Description  of  the  Empire  of  China,’  vol.  ii. 
pp.  167-174.  A philosopher  called  Chwang-tze  had 
married  three  times  : his  first  wife  died  ; the  second 
he  divorced,  because  of  her  infidelity ; the  third  is  the 
subject  of  the  tale,  which  is  called ' Tyen,’  from  the  lady’s 
name.  Chwang-tze  having  observed  a widow  fanning 
the  earth  over  her  husband’s  grave,  he  inquired  of  her 
the  reason  for  such  a strange  proceeding,  and  she  told 
him  that  she  had  promised  her  dying  husband  not  to 
marry  again  before  the  earth  of  his  grave  was  perfectly 
dry ; ''  and  now,”  she  added,  ''  as  it  has  occurred  to  me 
that  the  surface  of  this  ground,  which  has  been  newly 
tempered,  would  not  very  soon  dry,  I thought  I would 
just  fan  it  a little.”  The  philosopher  approved  of  her 
plan,  and  obtained  her  fan  as  a souvenir.  Eeturning 
home,  he  told  his  wife  of  this  adventure,  .and  showed 
her  the  fan,  which  she  snatched  from  him  and  tore 
into  shreds,  declaring  the  woman  to  be  a heartless 
hussy ; — for  her  own  part,  were  he  to  die,  she  should 
never  marry  again.  Shortly  after  this  Chwang-tze 

VOL.  I.  c 


34 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  PICTIONS. 


became  suddenly  ill  and  died.  The  lady  was  over- 
powered with  grief.  Preparations  were  made  for  the 
funeral ; friends  and  acquaintances  assembled  at  her 
house,  amongst  whom  was  a young  and  handsome 
student,  attended  by  a servant.  He  informs  the  lady 
that  he  had  purposed  becoming  a disciple  of  the  late 
philosopher,  and  had  come  to  attend  his  obsequies. 
The  widow  falls  in  love  with  him,  and  contrives  to 
acquaint  him  of  her  passion  through  his  old  and  faith- 
ful servant.  After  several  objections  which  the  stu- 
dent raised  had  been  removed  by  the  amorous  widow, 
he  consents  to  marry  her,  but  suddenly  falls  into  con- 
vulsions. His  servant  tells  her  that  the  only  remedy 
is  the  brain  of  a man,  recently  dead,  dissolved  in  wine. 
Quoth  the  lady  readily,  My  husband  has  been  dead 
only  a few  days  ; open  his  coffin,  and  take  the  remedy 
from  thence.’’  The  cofiin  was  opened  accordingly, 
when,  to  the  consternation  of  the  widow,  the  philo- 
sopher sat  up,  for  he  had  only  pretended  to  be  dead, 
and  had  created  all  the  scene  by  magical  arts.^ 

Satirical  tales  of  widows’  tears,  which  shrink,  like 
Arno  in  the  summer,”  are  common  in  our  old  English 
jest-books.  Thus  in  the  ' Hundred  Mery  Talys  ’ (the 
book  referred  to  by  Beatrice  in  ''Much  Ado  about 
Nothing,”  when  she  says  to  Benedick,  " Will  you  tell 
me  who  told  you  that  I was  disdainful,  and  that  I 


^ This  story  is  also  given  by  Davis  in  his  work  on  the  Chinese. 
Abel  Remusat  made  a French  translation,  somewhat  fuller  than  that 
of  Du  Halde  (‘  La  Matrone  du  Pays  de  Soung  ’),  and  recently  it  has 
been  reproduced,  with  an  introduction,  by  M.  E.  Legrand. 


INTRODUCTION^. 


35 


had  my  good  wit  out  of  the  Hundred  Merry  Tales  ? 
is  the  story  of  the  woman  who  followed  her  fourth 
husband’s  bier  and  wept,  not  because  of  his  death,  as 
she  told  a gossip,  but  because  she  was  not  this  time, 
as  on  former  occasions,  provided  with  another  hus- 
band ; and  in  the  same  collection,  we  read  of  a woman 
kneeling  at  the  mass  of  requiem,  while  the  corpse  of 
her  husband  lay  in  the  chapel,  when  a young  man 
whispered  her  ''  that  he  myght  be  her  husband she 
replied,  Syr,  by  my  trowthe,  I am  sorry  that  ye 
come  too  late,  for  I am  sped  all  redy.  For  I was 
made  sure  yesterday  to  another  man.”  And  in  ‘ Mery 
Talys  and  Quicke  Answeres,’  a young  woman  grieving 
sorely  for  the  death  of  her  husband,  her  father  bade 
her  cheer  up,  for  he  had  provided  another  husband 
for  her ; but  she  said  she  would  have  him  not.  How^- 
ever,  when  they  were  all  at  dinner,  she  whispered  to 
her  father  amidst  her  sobs,  “ Father,  where  is  this  same 
young  man  that  is  to  be  my  husband  ? ” 

From  the  'Vitae  Patrum’  Jacques  de  Vitry  and 
Etienne  de  Bourbon  took  the  story  of  the  nun  who 
tore  out  her  eyes,  and  sent  them  to  a king  who  had 
fallen  in  love  with  her  beauty.  This  is  the  well- 
known  tale  of  St  Bridget  (see  ' Three  Middle  Irish 
Homilies,’  by  Whitley  Stokes,  p.  65);  and  it  has  its 
prototype  in  the  great  Indian  story-book  entitled 
' Katha  Sarit  Sagara  ’ — Ocean  of  the  Streams  of  Narra- 
tive— where  it  is  related  of  a prince  who  abandoned 
his  kingdom,  and  adopted  the  life  of  a wandering 
hermit.  Entering  the  house  of  a merchant  one  day 


36 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


to  ask  alms,  the  young  wife  of  the  merchant,  on  seeing 
him,  exclaimed,  ''How  came  such  a handsome  man 
as  you  to  undertake  such  a severe  vow  as  this  ? 
Happy  is  the  woman  who  is  gazed  upon  with  such 
eyes  as  yours ! ’’  Upon  this  the  begging  hermit  tore 
out  one  eye,  and  asked  her  what  there  was  in  it  to 
be  so  attractive.  He  then  told  the  lady  a story  of 
a hermit  who  conquered  his  anger,  after  which  she 
bowed  before  him ; and  he,  being  regardless  of  his 
body,  lovely  though  it  was,  passed  on  to  perfection. 

Liebrecht  has  shown  that  the  biographies  of  Christian 
saints  were  largely  indebted  to  Buddhist  hagiology, 
in  his  essay  on  the  sources  of  the  spiritual  romance 
of  ' Barlaam  and  Josaphat.’  ^ And  a careful  examina- 
tion— but  what  a task  it  would  prove ! — of  the  medi- 
aeval sermon-books  and  exemjpla,  as  stories  designed 
for  preachers’  use  were  styled,  would  probably  result 
in  the  discovery  that  many  of  the  monkish  tales  are 
traceable  to  Buddhist  sources.  After  the  fall  of  Bud- 
dhism in  India,  and  even  during  its  decline,  according 
to  Max  Muller,  the  Brahmans  did  not  scruple  to  ap- 
propriate the  beautiful  tales  and  apologues  of  their 
enemies,  and  employ  them  for  purposes  of  instruction. 
The  Sanskrit  book  entitled  'Pancha  Tantra’ — Pive 
Sections  — to  which  our  European  versions  of  the 
Fables  of  Pilpay  are  closely  allied,  and  very  many 
of  the  tales  in  the  ' Katha  Sarit  Sagara,’  are  of  Buddhist 
origin.  Moreover,  I conceive  the  germs  of  more  than 
one  of  Lucian’s  amusing  stories  are  found  in  the  Bud- 
1 ^ Zilr  Volkskunde,’  p.  441. 


INTKODUCTION. 


37 


dhist  writings.  Nor  is  this  at  all  improbable,  since 
Indian  fictions  certainly  began  to  spread  both  east- 
ward and  westward  in  the  second  century  of  our  era ; 
and  fables  and  tales  being  the  means  employed  for 
conveying  the  doctrines  of  Gautama  to  the  minds  of 
the  people,  we  may  well  suppose  that  they  would  be 
readily  taken  up  and  ''  wafted  from  clime  to  clime,’’ 
although  the  lessons  they  were  designed  to  inculcate 
may  have  been  ignored.  But  there  is  reason  to  be- 
lieve that  Buddhist  doctrines  had  penetrated  Western 
Europe  long  before  the  second  century.  As  Dr  J.  W. 
Eedhouse  remarks  eloquently,  When  the  Hindus 
j had  become  disciples  of  Buddha  \i.e.,  Gautama],  from 
( the  ninth  century  before  Christ,  the  whole  world  of 
civilisation,  from  the  Pacific  to  the  Atlantic,  caught 
many  a maxim  of  grandeur,  and  especially  mercy  to 
others — the  brightest  gem  of  theoretical  Christianity — 
from  the  followers  of  that  mild  sage,  the  greatest  man, 
in  some  respects,  that  has  ever  lived  on  earth.” 

The  monkish  writers  of  mediseval  times  were  in- 
debted, directly  or  indirectly,  for  some  of  their  stories 
to  the  Talmud,  as  we  have  already  seen ; and  it  appears 
that  the  compilers  of  that  strange  monument  of  human 
wisdom  and  human  folly  added  to  their  own  inven- 
tions narratives  and  apologues  of  Indian  as  well  as 
Greek  and  Eoman  origin.  For  example,  we  are  told 
that  the  infamous  citizens  of  Sodom  had  a particular 
kind  of  bed  for  the  use  of  the  weary  traveller  who 
entered  their  city  and  sought  shelter  for  the  night : if 
he  was  found  to  be  too  long  for  the  bed,  they  reduced 


38 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


him  to  the  proper  length  by  chopping  off  so  much  of 
his  legs ; and  if  too  short,  he  was  stretched  to  the 
requisite  length.  Here  we  have  the  old  Greek  legend 
of  Procrustes,  the  robber  of  Attica,  who  was  said  to 
treat  his  victims  in  this  manner.  And  some  trace  of 
the  same  tale  seems  to  be  found  in  an  account  of  one 
of  the  adventures  of  Kurroglii,  the  robber-poet  of 
Turkish-Persia  (in  Chodzko’s  ‘ Popular  Poetry  of  Per- 
sia ’),  where  the  Princess  Nighara,  daughter  of  the  Sul- 
tan of  Turkey,  playfully  says  to  her  bandit-lover,  who 
had  gained  access  to  the  harem  in  the  disguise  of  a 
pilgrim,  ''I  will  fetch  thee  one  of  my  father’s  robes; 
and  if  it  should  be  too  short  for  thee,  I shall  have  thy 
legs  chopped  off  just  at  the  place  where  the  robe  will 
reach ; and  if  it  be  too  long,  I shall  direct  a nail  to 
be  driven  into  each  of  thy  heels,  that  thou  mayest 
grow  taller.”  Kurroglu  replies  that  by  so  doing  she 
should  treat  him  after  the  code  of  Abu  Hurayra,  refer- 
ring, apparently,  to  some  Arab  legend  similar  to  that 
of  Procrustes.^  Another  Greek  legend  reappears  in 
the  Talmud,  as  a citation  from  the  Book  of  dasher: 
''  So  light  was  Haphtali  (the  son  of  Jacob)  that  he 

^ Abu  Hurayra — “ Father  of  a kitten.”  This  was  the  hicnya^  or 
by-name,  of  one  of  Muhammed’s  most  beloved  disciples.  He  was  so 
named  by  Muhammed  from  his  carrying  a kitten  on  his  arm  one 
day.  He  is  the  source  of  several  traditions  of  the  Prophet.  The  Abu 
Hurayra,  whose  “ code,”  according  to  Kurrogld  (“  son  of  the  blind,” 
so  called  because  his  father  had  been  blinded),  was  similar  to  that  of 
the  robber  of  Attica,  must  have  been  a very  different  man,  and  the 
story  referred  to  seems  now  forgotten,  like  the  tale  of  two  women 
alluded  to  by  the  genie  whom  the  Arabian  fisherman  liberated  from 
the  copper  vessel  in  which  he  had  been  confined  by  Solomon  : ‘‘  Do 
not  deal  with  me  as  did  Umama  to  Atika.” 


INTRODUCTION. 


39 


could  go  upon  the  ears  of  corn  without  crushing  them.’' 
This  is  “the  fleet  Camilla”  in  a Jewish  gaberdine! 
And  a farther  instance  of  the  familiarity  of  the  Eab- 
bins  with  classical  literature  is  furnished  in  one  of  the 
numerous  apothegms  in  the  Talmud : “ When  love  is 
intense,  both  man  and  wife]  find  room  enough 
upon  one  bench ; afterwards  they  may  find  themselves 
cramped  in  a space  of  sixty  cubits.”  This  seems 
derived  from  an  anecdote  in  Athenseus,  xii. : Python 
of  Byzantium  was  a very  fat  man.  He  once  said  to 
the  citizens,  in  addressing  them,  to  make  friends  after 
a political  dispute,  “ Gentlemen,  you  see  how  stout  I 
am ; well,  I have  a wife  at  home  who  is  still  fatter. 
Now,  when  we  are  good  friends,  we  can  sit  on  a very 
small  seat;  but  when  we  quarrel,  I assure  you  the 
whole  house  cannot  contain  us.” 

The  famous  Persian  poet  Hafiz  seems  also  to  have 
been  acquainted  with  classical  Greek  and  Eoman  lit- 
erature. Stobseus  (Plor.  36‘,  19)  tells  us  that  Zeno 
said  to  a youth  who  was  more  disposed  to  talk  than 
to  listen,  “ Young  man,  nature  gave  us  one  tongue, 
but  two  ears,  so  that  we  may  hear  just  twice  as  much 
as  we  speak,” — a saying  which  Hafiz  has  thus  repro- 
duced : 

Two  ears  and  but  a single  tongue 

By  nature’s  law  to  man  belong. 

The  lesson  she  would  teach  is  clear  : 

Kepeat  but  half  of  what  you  hear. 

The  origin  of  chivalric  romance  in  Europe  was  the 
subject  of  keen  controversy  among  English  writers  in 


40 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


the  last  century,  and  is  still  perhaps  not  satisfactorily 
ascertained.  Percy  contended  that  the  spirit  of  chiv- 
alry existed  among  the  northern  nations  long  before 
the  establishment  of  the  feudal  system,  or  the  intro- 
duction of  knighthood  as  a regular  order;  and  that 
their  fictions  were  carried  from  the  North  by  the 
Scalds  who  probably  accompanied  the  army  of  Eollo 
into  Normandy.  Warton,  on  the  other  hand,  main- 
tained that  romantic  fiction  was  introduced  into 
Europe  by  the  Saracens,  who  settled  in  Spain  in  the 
eighth  century,  and  suggested  that,  even  admitting  the 
Gothic  theory,  yet  as  the  Goths  themselves  came  from 
the  East,  their  fictions  also  had  in  all  likelihood  an 
Asiatic  origin.  There  is  much  to  be  urged  in  favour 
of  both  theories.  Many  passages  in  European  romances 
of  chivalry,  especially  those  describing  the  prowess  of 
the  heroes  in  battle,  bear  a very  striking  likeness  to 
the  narratives  of  the  exploits  of  the  famous  Bedouin 
poet-hero  Antar,  in  the  romance  which  purports  to 
recount  his  adventures.^  In  the  romance  of  Guy  of 
Warwick,  Sir  Heraud,  one  of  Guy’s  companions,  is  the 
prisoner  of  a king,  who,  having  engaged  in  war,  suffers 
defeat,  and  is  at  length  besieged  in  his  capital.  It 
happens  that  an  attendant  of  the  king  overhears  the 
prisoner’s  complaints,  and  discovering  that  he  is  none 
other  than  the  illustrious  Heraud,  the  second  hero  of 

^ A style  various  and  elegant,  reaching  sometimes  to  the  sublime; 
characters  drawn  with  force,  and  skilfully  sustained  ; render  the 
Romance  of  Antar  eminently  remarkable  : it  may  be  termed  the  Iliad 
of  the  Arabians.” — Caussin  de  Perceval. 


INTKODUCTION. 


41 


Christendom,  acquaints  the  king  of  the  name  and  rank 
of  his  prisoner.  The  king  at  once  sends  for  Heraud 
and  requests  the  aid  of  his  sword,  promising  him  his 
freedom  and  great  gifts  in  return.  Heraud  consents, 
and  by  his  invincible  prowess  turns  the  tide  of  affairs 
once  more  in  favour  of  the  king.  A precisely  similar 
incident  occurs  in  the  Arabian  romance  of  'Antar.’ 
The  hero  is  taken  prisoner  by  Monzar,  king  of  Hira, 
who,  having  offended  his  suzerain,  Nushirvan,  king  of 
Persia,  the  latter  despatches  an  army  to  chastise  his 
insolence,  led  by  the  famous  champion  Khosrewan. 
The  king  of  Hira  is  defeated  in  the  first  battle,  and 
recollecting  his  noble  prisoner  Antar,  sends  for  him  in 
his  extremity,  and  requests  him  to  lead  his  troops 
against  the  Persians  on  the  following  day.  Antar 
consents,  slays  the  champion  Khosrewan  in  single 
combat,  and  the  Persians  are  routed  with  great  slaugh- 
ter. In  the  romance  of  Sir  Bevis  of  Hampton,  we  are 
told  that  Bevis,  when  only  seven  years  old,  knocked 
down  two  stout  men  with  his  cudgel ; and  while  yet  a 
boy,  he  slew  sixty  Saracen  knights.  The  Bedouin  hero 
Antar  also  exhibited  extraordinary  courage  in  his 
childhood:  when  he  was  but  ten  years  old  he  slew 
a wolf  that  had  dispersed  his  flock,  and  carried  home 
the  head  and  paws  of  the  beast  in  a basket,  and  pre- 
sented them  as  trophies  of  his  prowess  to  his  mother, 
— a bold  exploit,  which  may  be  compared  with  that  of 
David  the  Hebrew  shepherd-boy : Thy  servant  kept 
his  father’s  sheep,  and  there  came  a lion  and  a bear, 
and  took  a lamb  out  of  the  flock : and  I went  out 


42 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


after  him,  and  delivered  it  out  of  his  mouth ; and  when 
he  arose  against  me,  I caught  him  by  his  beard,  and 
smote  him,  and  slew  him.  Thy  servant  slew  both  the 
lion  and  the  bear;  and  this  uncircumcised  Philistine 
shall  be  as  one  of  them.’'  (1  Sam.  xvii.  34-36.) 

In  the  combat  of  Sir  Guy  with  the  Danish  cham- 
pion Colbrand  are  incidents  analogous  to  some  of 
Antar’s  hand-to-hand  encounters  with  ''foemen  worthy 
of  his  steel.”  Colbrand  threw  three  darts  at  Guy,  two 
of  which  failed,  and  the  third  glided  through  his  shield, 
and  passing  under  his  arm,  went  an  acre  before  it 
fell  to  the  ground.  He  dealt  a stroke  at  Guy  with 
his  sword,  missed  him,  but  cut  his  horse  in  two.  At 
last  Guy  gives  Colbrand  a stroke  on  the  neck,  smiting 
his  head  from  his  body,  and  sending  it  half  a foot  into 
the  earth.  Sir  Bevis  thus  despatched  an  insolent 
citizen : 

To  that  burgess  a stroke  he  sent, 

Through  helm  and  hauberk  down  it  went ; 

Both  man  and  horse  in  that  stound 
He  cleaved  down  to  the  ground. 

King  Arthur,  dealing  a heavy  blow  on  the  shoulder  of 
a giant  fifteen  feet  in  height,  divided  him  to  the  nave 
so  accurately  that  his  sides  hung  over  his  horse,  and 
he  was  thus  carried  about  the  field  to  the  great  horror 
of  the  Saracens.  Sir  Guy  cleaved  Sir  Gunter  from 
the  helmet  to  the  pommel  of  his  saddle.  In  the 
Eomance  of  Antar  the  hero  wards  off  the  four  darts 
thrown  at  him  by  the  Greek  champion,  and  catching 
the  mace  which  he  then  hurled  at  him,  he  returned  it 


INTEODUCTION. 


43 


with  such  force  as  to  throw  him  off  the  saddle  to  the 
distance  of  twelve  cubits,  and  broke  his  ribs  and 
snapped  his  spine.  In  another  encounter  he  smites 
his  doughty  antagonist  with  his  irresistible  sword 
Dhami — a blade  which  may  be  compared  with  Mor- 
glay,  Excalibar,  Durandal,  Balmung,  Gram,  Chrysaor, 
and  others  famed  in  European  romance — cleaving  both 
him  and  his  horse  to  the  ground,  so  that  they  fell 
each  in  two  halves. 

In  the  romance  of  Merlin  (Part  II.),  King  Arthur 
obtains  his  renowned  sword  Excalibar  in  this  way : 
A miraculous  stone  was  discovered  before  the  church- 
door,  and  in  the  stone  was  firmly  fixed  a sword  with 
these  words  engraved  on  its  hilt : 

Ich  am  y-hote  [called]  Excalibore  ; 

Unto  a king  fair  treasure. 

(On  Inglis  is  this  writing), 

Kerve  steel,  and  yren,  and  al  thing. 

It  was  made  law,  that  whoever  should  be  able  to  draw 
oub  that  sword  from  the  stone,  should  be  at  once 
acknowledged  as  sovereign  of  Britain.  Many  strong 
and  bold  knights  attempted  to  withdraw  the  sword 
in  vain:  at  length  Arthur  came  forward,  and  being 
at  the  time  in  want  of  a trusty  blade,  drew  it  forth 
with  perfect  ease.  This  incident  seems  to  have  been 
adapted  from  the  (Korse)  Volsung  Tale.  ''  The 
Volsungs,’’  says  Dr  Dasent,  ''  traced  themselves  back, 
like  all  heroes,  to  Odin,  the  great  father  of  gods  and 
men.  From  him  sprang  Sigi,  from  him  Volsung.  In 
the  centre  of  his  hall  grew  an  oak,  the  tall  trunk  of 


44 


POPULAK  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


which  passed  through  the  roof,  and  its  boughs  spread 
far  and  wide  in  upper  air.  Into  that  hall,  on  a high 
feast  day,  when  Signy,  Volsung’s  daughter,  was  to  be 
given  away  to  Siggeir,  King  of  Gothland,  strode  an 
old  one-eyed  guest.  His  feet  were  bare,  his  hose  were 
of  knitted  linen  ; he  wore  a great  striped  cloak  and 
a broad  flapping  hat.  In  his  hand  he  bare  a great 
sword,  which,  at  one  stroke,  he  buried  up  to  the  hilt 
in  the  oak-trunk.  ' There,’  said  he,  ' let  him  of  all 
this  company  bear  this  sword  who  is  man  enough  to 
pull  it  out.  I give  it  him,  and  none  shall  say  he  ever 
wore  a better  blade.’  With  these  words  he  passed  out 
of  the  hall,  and  was  seen  no  more.  Many  tried,  for 
that  sword  was  plainly  a thing  of  price,  but  none 
could  stir  it,  till  Sigmund,  the  best  and  bravest  of 
Volsung’s  sons,  tried  his  hand,  and  lo ! the  weapon 
yielded  itself  at  once.  That  was  the  famous  blade 
Gram.”  ^ 

It  is,  to  say  the  least,  exceedingly  curious  to  And  a 
somewhat  similar  legend  related  in  the  Talmud  re- 
garding the  manner  in  which  Moses,  the  Hebrew  law- 
giver, became  possessed  of  his  famous  rod — the  same 
with  which  he  divided  the  waters  of  the  Eed  Sea  and 
smote  the  rock  in  the  wilderness,  causing  a stream  of 
pure  water  to  flow  forth.  According  to  the  rabbinical 
narrative,  this  wondrous  staff  was  created  on  the  sixth 

^ Dasent’s  ^Popular  Tales  from  the  Norse’ — Introd.  pp.  Ixi,  Ixii. 
In  the  ‘ Saga  of  Gisli,  the  Outlaw,’  we  read  of  another  famous  blade 
that  would  bite  whatever  its  blow  fell  upon,  be  it  iron  or  aught 
else ; nor  could  its  edge  be  deadened  by  spells,  for  it  was  forged  by 
the  Dwarfs,  and  its  name  is  Graysteel.” — Dr  Dasent’s  Translation. 


INTRODUCTION. 


45 


day  and  given  to  Adam  while  yet  in  Paradise.  Adam 
bequeathed  it  to  Enoch,  who  gave  it  to  Shem,  the 
eldest  son  of  Noah,  from  whom  it  descended  to  Isaac 
and  Jacob.  It  was  by  the  help  of  this  staff  that  Jacob 
crossed  the  Jordan,  and  he  took  it  with  him  to  Egypt. 
Before  his  death  he  presented  it  to  Joseph,  at  whose 
death  it  was  taken,  with  the  rest  of  his  property,  to 
Pharaoh’s  treasury,  where  Jethro,  then  one  of  the 
royal  magicians,  at  once  recognised  its  secret  qualities, 
and  on  quitting  the  Egyptian  court  to  settle  in  the 
land  of  Midian,  he  took  it  with  him,  and  planted  it  in 
his  garden^  where  no  person  was  able  to  approach  it, 
until  the  arrival  of  Moses,  who  had  fled  thither  after 
slaying  the  insolent  Egyptian,  and  having  read  the 
mystical  words  on  the  staff,  pulled  it  out  of  the  ground 
with  ease. 

The  hero  of  chivalric  romance  is  always  possessed  of 
a wonderful  steed  and  a sword  which  nothing  can  re- 
sist. Eustam,  the  Persian  champion  of  antiquity,  had 
a horse  called  Eaksh  (lightning),  with  which,  like  some 
European  heroes,  he  often  conversed  confldentially. 
The  steed  of  Easaki,  the  hero  of  the  Panjab,  warned 
him  at  a crisis  not  to  touch  him  with  whip  or  spur. 
Antar’s  horse  Abjer  was  ''  dark-coloured,  beautiful, 
and  compact ; of  the  race  much  prized  by  the  Arabs ; 
his  hoofs  were  as  flat  as  the  beaten  coin ; his  ears  like 
quills;  when,  he  neighed  he  seemed  as  if  about  to 
speak.”  His  sword  Dhami  (which  signifies  “ sub- 
duing”) was  forged  out  of  a thunderbolt  that  had 
fallen  and  killed  a camel.  When  it  was  finished,  the 


46 


POPULAK  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


chief  who  had  employed  the  smith  to  forge  it  took  the 
sword  in  his  hand  and  asked  him,  What  name  have 
you  given  it  ? The  smith  replied : 

The  sword  is  sharp,  0 son  of  the  tribe  of  Ghalib, 

Sharp  indeed  ; but  where  is  the  striker  for  the  sword  '? 

Then  the  chief  waved  the  sword,  saying,  ''As  for  the 
smiter — I am  the  smiter  ! ” and  struck  off  the  black- 
smith’s head.  The  sword  Dhami  descended  from 
father  to  son,  till  the  last  possessor  on  his  death-bed 
called  his  youngest  son,  and  bade  him  privily  hide  it 
in  the  earth,  so  that  it  should  not  be  seized  with  the 
rest  of  the  family  property  by  his  grasping  tyrannical 
brother.  The  youth  hid  the  sword  accordingly  in  the 
desert ; but  on  the  death  of  the  chief,  his  elder  son 
threatened  to  slay  his  brother  if  he  did  not  deliver  it 
up  to  him.  They  went  together  to  the  place,  but  the 
youth  could  not  find  it,  and  his  brother  drew  his  sword 
and  would  have  slain  him  had  not  Antar  opportunely 
arrived,  and  learning  the  cause  of  the  quarrel,  attacked 
and  killed  the  tyrant,  after  which  he  sent  the  youth 
away.  Then  sitting  down  to  rest  himself,  he  was 
playing  with  the  sand,  when  he  came  on  a stone, 
which  he  removed,  and  lo  ! there  lay  the  sword  Dhami 
which  the  youth  had  sought  in  vain. 

Single  combats  between  the  champions  of  opposing 
armies  are  not  only  common  in  Asiatic  as  well  as 
European  romances,  but  seem  to  have  been  customary 
in  actual  warfare  from  the  most  remote  times;  and 
the  historical  books  of  the  Bible  furnish  several  in- 


INTRODUCTION. 


47 


stances.  The  combat  between  David  and  Goliath 
(1  Samuel  xvii.  38-51)  is  a memorable  example,  and 
the  battle  between  the  men  of  Abner  and  the  men  of 
Joab  (2  Samuel  ii.  15,  16)  is  another.  Such  combats 
are  of  very  frequent  occurrence  in  the  Eomance  of 
Antar,  and,  as  in  the  European  romances,  the  opposing 
champions  invariably  address  each  other  in  haughty 
tones.  Thus  Antar  exclaims,  when  about  to  en- 
counter the  Greek  champion,  ''  I will  break  down 
the  support  of  Greece  from  its  foundations ; I v/ill 
sever  Badramiit’s  head  with  my  scimitar ! I am  he 
whose  might  is  uncontrollable  in  battle : I am  of  the 
race  of  Abs,  the  valiant  lion  of  the  cavern  ! ’’  In  like 
strain  does  a hero  of  the  ^ Shah  Nama  ’ (Book  of  Kings) 
of  Eirdausi,  the  Homer  of  Persia,  vaunt  himself : 

I am  myself  Hujer, 

The  valiant  champion,  come  to  conquer  thee, 

And  to  lop  off  that  towering  head  of  thine. 

Come  to  me,”  said  Goliath  to  David,  ''  and  I will 
give  thy  flesh  to  the  fowls  of  the  air  and  to  the  beasts 
of  the  field.” 

It  would  appear,  from  the  minute  description  of  the 
arms  and  armour  of  the  combatants  in  the  Eomance  of 
Antar,  that  chivalry,  in  all  essential  particulars,  was 
an  institution  in  the  East  long  before  it  was  regularly 
established  in  Europe.  The  Persian  satrap  whom 
Antar  encounters  and  slays  is  described  as  encased  in 
a complete  suit  of  mail  “ of  Davidean  workmanship,”  ^ 

^ In  the  celebrated  ^ Burda,’  or  Mantle- Poem,  of  Kadb  the  son  of 


48 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


with  plumed  helmet,  and  armed  with  sword,  mace, 
shield,  etc.,  precisely  like  European  knights.  Nor  can 
knight-errantry  be  said  to  have  been  unknown  to 
Asiatic  chivalry.  Oriental  historians  mention  a Per- 
sian knight  who  was  surnamed  Eezm  Kha — one  who 
goes  in  quest  of  adventures ; ’’  and  two  famous  Arabian 
knights-errant,  one  named  Abii  Muhammed  El-Batal, 
who  wandered  everywhere  in  search  of  adventures 
and  redressing  grievances,  and  who  was  killed  a.d. 
738  (a.h.  121);  and  the  other  a great-grandson  of  the 
Khalif  Abu  Bekr,  named  Jaafar  Es-Sadik,  a man 
eminent  for  his  piety  and  extensive  knowledge,  as 
well  as  for  his  feats  of  arms,  who  died  in  the  reign  of 
Al-Mansur,  a.d.  764  (a.h.  147). 

The  rescue  of  distressed  and  imprisoned  damsels 
is  often  accomplished  by  Antar.  When  the  Bedouin 
hero  is  journeying  to  Mecca,  accompanied  by  his  half- 
brother  Shibub,  they  heard,  in  the  calmness  of  night, 
a female  voice  crying  out,  evidently  in  sore  distress ; 
upon  which  Antar  slackens  his  bridle  and  gallops  in 
the  direction  whence  proceeded  the  cries.  He  dis- 
covers a lady,  who  informs  him  that  she  is  of  the 
noble  tribe  of  Kenda;  her  husband  is  As-hath,  the 
son  of  Obed.  A famine  having  visited  their  land, 

Zuhayr,  recited  by  him  before  Muhammed,  at  Medina,  in  the  9th 
year  of  the  Hijra  (a.d.  629-30),  afber  the  conquest  of  Mecca,  the 
warriors  of  the  tribe  of  Kuraysh  are  described  as  “ aquiline  - nosed 
heroes  ; whose  clothing,  in  combat,  is  of  shirts  of  the  tissue  of  David 
— bright  and  ample,  interlaced  with  links  like  the  tendrils  of  the 
KaM  plant,  firmly  wove  together;” — that  is  to  say,  coats  of  mail. 
According  to  Arab  tradition,  David  the  Hebrew  king  was  divinely 
taught,  and  very  skilful,  in  the  manufacture  of  link  armour. 


INTRODUCTION. 


49 


they  were  proceeding  with  their  family  to  the  country 
of  Harith,  where  they  intended  to  settle,  having  a 
daughter  married  there,  when  they  were  attacked  by 
a horseman  of  the  desert,  Sudam,  the  son  of  Salheb, 
with  forty  plundering  Arabs,  who  had  slain  her  three 
sons,  wounded  her  husband,  and  taken  herself  and 
her  three  daughters  captive;  and  that  the  brigands 
were  about  to  convey  them  to  the  mountains  of 
Tawayla,  there  to  sell  them  as  slaves.  Consigning  the 
ladies  to  the  care  of  his  brother,  Antar  grasps  his 
spear,  and  turns  to  meet  Sudam  and  his  followers, 
whom  he  now  sees  hastily  advancing  towards  him. 
The  hero  is  assailed  by  several  brigands  at  once,  but 
he  cuts  them  down  on  either  side,  and  at  length 
encounters  Sudam,  and  striking  him  on  the  breast 
with  his  cleaving  Dhami,  the  chief  falls  to  the  ground 
dead,  weltering  in  his  blood.  The  three  damsels  and 
their  mother  crowd  round  their  deliverer,  kissing  his 
hands  and  thanking  him  for  having  saved  them  from 
dishonour;  and  Antar,  desiring  the  damsels  to  veil 
themselves,  and  having  bound  up  the  old  shaykh’s 
wounds,  sat  down  to  rest  himself  after  the  fatigue 
of  his  combats.  The  old  shaykh,  grateful  for  the 
good  service  rendered  his  family  by  Antar,  offers  him 
his  choice  of  his  three  daughters,  but  the  hero  cour- 
teously declines  the  compliment,  saying  to  the  dam- 
sels, ''Were  my  heart  my  own,  I should  desire  nothing 
beyond  you — it  would  covet  nothing  but  you.  But 
it  loves  what  tortures  it;  where  no  word,  no  deed, 
encourages  it.”  Never  was  European  knight  more 
VOL.  I. 


D 


50 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  PICTIONS. 


“ solicitous  in  the  cause  of  women  ’’  than  the  Bedouin 
hero  : when  he  rescued  the  tribe  of  Mazin,  and  learned 
that  Oosack  and  his  followers  were  plundering  the 
women’s  quarter,  he  rushed  with  his  warriors  upon 
the  dastards,  scattering  them  to  the  right  and  left : 
''mighty  was  every  act,  and  fate  descended  among 
them.”  It  is  certain  that  European  chivalry  owed 
much  to  the  Arabs ; and  that  many  scenes  and 
incidents  from  'Antar’  and  other  Arabian  romances 
were  appropriated  by  the  early  Spanish  authors  of 
similar  works,  which  they  had  derived  from  their 
Moorish  conquerors ; and  we  may  fairly  consider 
'Antar’  as  the  prototype  of  European  romances  of 
chivalry.^ 

To  return,  after  this  long  digression,  to  the  subject 
of  the  origin  and  diffusion  of  popular  tales.  Mr 
Ealston  has  justly  remarked  that  an  unfamiliar  joke 
is  rarely  met  with  in  the  lower  strata  of  fiction.  The 
same  jests  which  amuse  the  Eussian  or  Norwegian 
peasant  are  also  well  known  to  the  vine-dressers  of 
Erance  and  Spain,  and  to  the  Italian  rustic ; to  the 
half  - farmer  - half  - fisherman  of  Argyllshire  ; to  the 
wandering  Arab ; to  the  luxurious  Persian ; to  the 
peaceable  Hindu ; to  the  crafty  Chinese.  Who  has 
not  heard  of  the  Irishman  who  looked  over  the 
shoulder  of  a gentleman  while  he  was  writing  a letter 
in  a coffee-house,  and  when  the  gentleman  concluded 
with  the  words,  " I have  much  more  to  say  to  you, 

^ For  some  account  of  the  Romance  of  Antar,  see  the  Note  at  the 
end  of  this  introductory  paper. 


INTRODUCTION. 


51 


but  an  impudent  Irishman  is  reading  every  word 
I write,”  the  Irishman  exclaimed,  ''Upon  my  sowl, 
I haven’t  read  a word,  sorr ! ” This  was  told  many 
centuries  ago  in  the  ' Baharistan  ’ of  the  Persian  poet 
Jami:  A learned  man  being  annoyed  while  writing 
a letter  to  one  of  his  confidential  friends  at  the 
conduct  of  a person  who,  seated  at  his  side,  glanced 
out  of  the  corner  of  his  eye  at  his  letter,  wrote : " Had 
not  a hireling  thief  been  seated  at  my  side  and  engaged 
in  reading  my  letter,  I should  have  written  to  thee  all 
my  secrets.”  The  man  said,  "By  Allah,  my  lord,  I 
have  neither  read  nor  even  looked  at  thy  letter.” 
" Fool,”  exclaimed  the  other,  " how  canst  thou,  then, 
say  what  thou  now  sayest  ? ” 

Another  familiar  jest  is  that  of  the  " pragmatical 
young  fellow”  who,  sitting  at  a table  opposite  "the 
learned  John  Scott,”  asked  him,  " What  difference 
is  there  between  Scot  and  Sot  ? ” to  which  he  replied, 
" Just  the  breadth  of  the  table.”  ^ This  also  occurs 
in  Gladwin’s  ' Persian  Moonshee  ’ and  several  Indian 
collections  of  facetiae:  An  indigent  poet  paid  a visit 
to  a rich  man,  and  seated  himself  so  near  that  there  was 
not  more  distance  than  a span  between  them.  Offended 
thereat,  the  rich  man  asked  him,  "What  difference  is 
there  between  you  and  an  ass  ? ” He  answered,  " The 
measure  of  one  span.” 

The  well-known  story  of  the  " natural  ” who  ate 
a leg  of  a fowl  intended  for  the  laird’s  dinner  may 
have  been  taken  from  Boccaccio’s  ' Decameron,’  Day 
^ ‘A  Collection  of  Jests,  Epigrams,  Epitaphs,’  &c.  Edinburgh : 1753. 


52 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


vi.,  novel  4.  In  our  version  the  fool,  on  being  accused 
of  the  theft,  asserted  that  a fowl  had  only  one  leg, 
\ and  being  desired  to  prove  this,  he  led  the  laird  to 
a shed,  where  a number  of  fowls  were  standing  with 
one  leg  tucked  up,  as  is  usual  with  fowls  in  wet 
weather ; and  when  the  laird  cried,  ''  Shooh  ! shooh  ! ” 
the  fowls  all  set  down  their  legs.  “Had  you  cried 
‘ shooh  ! ’ to  your  hen,”  quoth  the  fool,  “ doubtless  it 
would  also  have  put  down  its  other  leg ! ” In  Boc- 
caccio it  is  a crane,  a leg  of  which  the  cook  had  given 
to  his  sweetheart.  It  reappears  in  ' Tarlton's  Hewes 
out  of  Purgatorie,’  under  the  title  of  “The  Tale  of  a 
Cook,  and  why  he  sat  in  Purgatorie  with  a Crane’s 
Leg  in  his  Mouth.” 

One  of  the  practical  jokes  of  “the  man  who  was 
called  Howleglass  ” (a  translation  made  about  1550,  of 
the  German  jests  of  Tyl  Eulenspiegel)  is  his  exhibit- 
ing “a  strange  animal  which  hath  its  head  placed 
where  its  tail  ought  to  be.”  This  is  found  also  in 
Gladwin’s  ‘ Persian  Moonshee  ’ : A very  poor  man 
who  had  a horse,  tied  him  in  the  stable  with  his  head 
towards  the  part  where  it  is  usual  to  place  the  tail. 
He  then  proclaimed  abroad,  “ 0 ye  people ! come  and 
see  a strange  sight,  a horse  with  his  head  where  his 
tail  ought  to  be  ! ” All  the  people  of  the  city  crowded 
together,  and  from  every  one  who  wished  to  see  the 
show  he  exacted  a small  piece  of  money,  and  gave 
them  admittance ; and  they  who  went  into  the  stable 
came  back  and  said  nothing.  In  the  German  version 
it  is  said : “ As  fast  as  they  came  in  and  found  how 


INTRODUCTION. 


53 


wittily  they  had  been  deceived,  they  could  not  help 
laughing  at  the  hoax,  in  which  Howleglass  joining, 
earnestly  entreated  them  not  to  ruin  his  fortunes,  and 
let  those  who  had  not  paid  laugh  at  them,  by  telling 
the  secret  to  the  townspeople  on  the  outside.  This 
they  all  promised,  and  as  soon  as  they  got  home 
each  advised  his  neighbour  to  go  and  see  the  great 
sight.’’ 

In  'Archie  Armstrong’s  Banquet  of  Jests’  is  the 
following  anecdote,  which  had  long  before  been  cur- 
rent in  Europe : A fellow  with  one  eye,  being  abroad 
about  his  business,  his  wife  in  his  absence  entertained 
her  lover.  But  it  so  happened  that  her  husband  came 
home,  and  entered  the  room  before  the  loving  couple 
expected  him.  At  whose  presence  the  woman,  greatly 
alarmed,  rose  up,  and  running  to  her  husband,  clapped 
her  hand  on  the  eye  he  could  see  with,  saying,  " Hus- 
band, I dreamt  just  now  that  you  could  see  as  well 
with  the  other  eye  as  with  this ; pray  tell  me.”  Mean- 
while her  friend  slipped  out  of  doors. — This  occurs  in 
the  ' Gesta  Eomanorum,’  ch.  cxxi. ; and  it  is  the  eighth 
tale  of  Peter  Alfonsus,  where  a vine-dresser  wounds 
one  of  his  eyes  while  working  in  the  vineyard.  In  the 
meantime  his  wife  is  engaged  with  her  gallant.  On 
the  husband’s  return,  she  contrives  the  lover’s  escape 
by  kissing  her  spouse  on  the  other  eye.  The  story  is 
also  in  the  novels  of  Malespini  (i.  44),  and  of  Bandello 
(i.  23) ; in  the  ' Heptameron  ’ of  Margaret  Queen  of 
Navarre,  who  probably  borrowed  it  from  the  first  tale 
of  tliQfaUiau  of  the  " Mauvaise  Femme  ” (Le  Grand,  iv. 


54 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


138,  ed.  1781);  and  in  the  ‘Elites  de  Contes’  of  the 
Sieur  d’Ouville  (Eouen,  1680,  p.  284). 

From  Alfonsus  the  incident  was  probably  adapted 
by  the  author  of  the  old  romance  of  ‘ Eurialus  and  Lu- 
cretia  ’ : The  hero,  Eurialus,  is  equerry  to  the  Emperor 
Sigismundus,  and  the  paramour  of  Lucretia,  wife  of  the 
Senator  Menelai.  “ One  night,  as  he  was  at  supper, 
the  senator  came  in  unexpectedly,  and  must  have  dis- 
covered Eurialus,  had  not  Lucretia’s  wonted  presence 
of  mind  saved  him  and  herself  from  that  disgrace. 
She  went  out  to  meet  her  husband,  who  had  already 
got  as  far  as  the  landing-place,  and  loaded  him  with  the 
most  tender  reproaches  for  having  left  her  to  eat  her 
supper  alone.  In  vain  did  he  protest  to  her  that  he 
had  not  eaten  a morsel  that  day ; she  was  not  to  be 
pacified,  and  falling  on  his  neck,  she  bedewed  the  dear 
man  with  her  tears.  The  senator,  pleased  at  so  rare 
an  instance  of  her  love,  kissed  off  her  tears,  and  com- 
forted his  loving  wife  in  the  most  soothing  language. 
Lucretia  acted  the  farce  long  enough  to  give  Eurialus 
time  to  get  out  at  the  window ; then  walking  into  the 
room  arm  in  arm  with  her  cara  sposa,  they  sat  down 
lovingly  to  supper.”  ^ 

The  original  occurs  in  the  Sanskrit  book  of  tales 
and  apologues,  entitled  ‘ Hitopadesa  ’ (Friendly  Coun- 
sel), Book  i.  fable  6 : In  the  province  of  Gaur  there  is 
a city  called  Kausambi.  In  it  dwelt  an  opulent  mer- 
chant named  Chandanadasa.  Being  in  the  last  stage 
of  life,  with  his  mind  swayed  by  desire,  he  married  a 

^ ‘ Bibliotheque  Universelle  des  Romans.’ 


INTRODUCTION. 


55 


merchant’s  daughter  named  Lilavati.  She  was  young, 
resembling  the  victorious  banner  of  Makara-Keta ; con- 
sequently her  aged  partner  was  not  to  her  liking.  Still 
the  old  husband  was  dotingly  fond  of  her.  Now  Lila- 
vati, through  the  impetuosity  of  youth,  violating  the 
honour  of  her  family,  became  enamoured  of  a certain 
merchant’s  son.  One  day  Lilavati  was  sitting  at  her 
ease  in  familiar  chat  with  the  merchant’s  son,  on  a 
couch  variegated  with  the  lustre  of  strings  of  jewels, 
when,  seeing  her  husband,  who  had  approached  unob- 
served, she  rose  up  with  precipitation,  caught  him  by 
the  hair,  and  vehemently  embracing,  kissed  him.  Mean- 
while the  gallant  rose  and  escaped. 

''Every  schoolboy”  knows  the  story  of  the  block-  ^ 
head  who  complained  to  the  judge  of  being  annoyed 
with  flies,  and  being  told  that  he  was  at  liberty  to 
strike  them  wherever  he  saw  them,  observing  a big 
" blue  bottle  ” alight  on  the  judge’s  nose,  delivered  a 
blow  with  his  flst  on  that  useful  member,  and  smashed 
it  as  well  as  the  fly.  This  is  also  told  of  Giufa,  the 
typical  noodle  of  Sicily,  in  Pitre’s  collection ; and  we 
have  a different  version  of  the  incident  in  the  Ice- 
landic Tale  of  a Butter-Tub : An  old  woman,  having 
privily  eaten  a whole  tub  of  butter  intended  for  use 
in  winter,  her  husband  was  surprised  to  find  the  tub 
empty,  and  asked  her  if  she  knew  how  it  had  hap- 
pened. Just  then  the  old  wife  saw  a big  fly  which 
had  got  into  the  open  barrel,  and  she  said,  " Ah,  there 
comes  the  wretched  thief ! Look  here — this  hateful 
fly  has  doubtless  eaten  all  our  butter  from  the  tub.” 


56 


POPULAK  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


This,  the  old  man  thought,  must  be  true,  and  ran  off 
for  the  big  hammer  with  which  he  used  to  beat  his 
dried  fish,  and  would  break  the  skull  of  the  fly.  He 
shut  the  door  of  the  cottage,  that  the  fly  should  not 
get  out,  and  now  chased  the  fly  all  over  the  place, 
knocking  and  beating  at  it,  but  never  hitting  save  his 
own  furniture  and  household  chattels,  which  he  broke 
to  pieces.  At  last  the  old  man,  being  tired,  sat  down 
in  fury  and  despair.  But  then  the  fly  came  and  sat 
on  his  nose.  Then  the  carl  'begged  his  wife  to  kill 
the  fly,  and  said,  Make  haste,  while  it  sits  on  the 
nose ! ” — which  since  has  passed  into  a common  say- 
ing. The  old  woman  lifted  up  the  hammer  with  all 
her  might,  and  thumped  it  on  the  old  man’s  nose, 
and  broke  his  skull  so  well  that  he  was  dead  on  the 
spot;  but  the  fly  escaped  with  unbroken  skull.  It 
is  unscathed  yet.  But  the  old  woman  is  still  wailing 
over  her  carl.^  The  incident  seems  to  be  of  Buddhist 
origin,  being  found  in  two  different  forms  in  the 
‘ Jatakas,’  or  Birth-Stories,  Nos.  44  and  45.  In  the 
former,  a lad  takes  an  axe  to  kill  some  mosquitoes 
that  had  alighted  on  his  father’s  bald  head,  and 
cleaves  the  old  man’s  skull.  The  other  is  as  follows : 
A slave  girl,  named  Eohini,  was  once  pounding  rice, 
when  her  aged  mother  came  to  the  place  and  sat 
down.  The  flie^  came  about  her,  and  bit  her  as  if 
they  were  running  needles  into  her.  She  said  to  her 

^ ‘ Icelandic  Legends.’  Collected  by  Jon  Arnason.  Translated  by 
George  E.  J.  Powell  and  Eirikr  Magnusson.  Second  Series.  London  : 
1866. 


INTRODUCTION. 


57 


daughter,  My  girl,  the  flies  are  biting  me ; drive 
them  off.”  She  said,  I will,  mother ; ” and  raising 
the  pestle,  thinking,  ''  I will  kill  and  destroy  the  flies 
on  my  mother’s  body,”  struck  her  mother  with  the 
pestle,  and  killed  her  on  the  spot.  Seeing  that,  she 
began  to  cry,  ''  0 mother ! mother ! ” ^ 

The  really  original  tales  in  our  collections  of  facetiae 
are  indeed  but  few.  ''  In  genuine  home-grown  humour,” 
says  Mr  W.  Carew  Hazlitt,  ^English  literature  is  by 
no  means  wealthy.  We  shine  indeed,  but  it  is  with 
a borrowed  light,  j Our  jest-books  are  little  beyond 
various  readings  to  the  Poggiana  and  other  great 
stores  of  facetiae;  and  if  we  should  take  away  from 
the  ' Hundred  Mery  Talys  ’ and  its  successors  what 
is  merely  imported  matter,  it  is  to  be  feared  that  the 
residue  would  be  compressible  into  a very  slender 
compass.  There  is  scarcely  a story  which  has  not 
been  told  over  and  over  again,  with  the  change  only 
of  name,  place,  and  circumstance.  The  germ  and 

^ Translations  from  the  Pali  of  ‘ J^takas  ’ 41-50,  by  the  Lord  Bishop 
of  Colombo ; in  the  ‘ Transactions  ’ of  the  Royal  Asiatic  Society, 
Ceylon  Branch.  This  is  one  of  the  Buddhist  tales  which  have  been 
adapted  by  the  Brdhmans  : In  the  First  Book  of  the  ‘ Panchatantra, 
a prince  sets  his  pet  monkey  to  watch  over  him  as  he  sleeps  in  a 
pavilion  in  his  garden  ; a troublesome  bee  settles  on  the  prince’s  face, 
in  spite  of  the  monkey’s  pains  to  drive  it  oflp,  till  the  monkey,  highly 
incensed,  snatches  up  his  master’s  sword,  and  making  a blow  at  the 
bee,  cuts  off  the  prince’s  head.  The  apologue  is  reproduced  in  the 
‘ Anvdir-i-Suhayli  ’ (Lights  of  Canopus),  a Persian  version,  by  Husain 
VaTz,  of  the  Fables  of  Bidpai,  and  the  modern  Hindustani  version  of 
the  Persian  work,  by  Abu-’l  Fazel,  ‘ Ay^r-i-Danish  ’ (Touchstone  of 
Knowledge),  under  the  title  of  “ The  Gardener,  the  Bear,  and  the 
Fly.”  In  this  form  it  is  an  old  European  acquaintance. 


58 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


spirit  are  identical.  Even  the  good  things  which  the 
contemporaries  of  Sydney  Smith  applauded  in  that 
excellent  man  are  in  many  cases  discoverable  in  works 
which  it  is  more  probable  than  otherwise  that  he  had 
read.”  And  Mr  J.  0.  Halliwell-Phillipps’  remark  is 
to  the  same  purpose : “ Nothing  is  more  uncertain 
than  the  attribution  of  ‘jests’  to  persons  who  have 
made  themselves  famous  as  wits,  and  we  are  occa- 
sionally favoured  in  the  public  prints  with  anecdotes 
concerning  men  of  our  own  times  that  have  long  been 
familiar  to  us  in  slightly  different  forms  in  jest-books 
of  the  sixteenth  and  seventeenth  centuries.” 

Among  the  anecdotes  told  of  Foote  is  this : Dining 
at  Paris  with  Lord  Stormont,  the  host  descanted  volu- 
bly on  the  age  of  his  wine,  which  was  served  in  very 
diminutive  glasses.  Foote,  holding  up  his  glass,  said, 
“ It  is  very  little  of  its  age.”  In  Taylor’s  ‘ Wit  and 
Mirth  ’ {temp,  J ames  I.  of  England),  the  story  is  thus 
told  : “A  proper  gentlewoman  went  to  speak  with  a 
rich  mizer  that  had  more  gowt  than  good  manners. 
At  her  taking  leave,  hee  requested  her  to  taste  a cup 
of  Canara.  Shee  (contrary  to  his  expectation)  tooke 
him  at  his  word,  and  thanked  him.  He  commanded 
Jeffrey  Starveling  his  man  to  wash  a glasse,  and  fill  it 
to  the  gentlewoman.  Honest  Jeffrey  fil’d  a great 
glasse  about  the  bigness  of  the  Taylors  thimbles,  and 
gave  it  to  his  master,  who  kist  it  to  save  cost,  and 
gave  it  to  the  gentlewoman,  saying  that  it  was  good 
Canara  of  six  yeeres  old  at  the  least ; to  whom  shee 
answered  (seeing  the  quantitie  so  small) : ‘ Sir,  as  you 


V 


INTRODUCTION.  59 

requested  me,  I have  tasted  your  wine ; but  I wonder 
that  it  should  be  so  little  being  of  so  great  an  age.’  ” 
This  was  probably  adapted  from  Lucian,  who  tells  how 
a lover  brought  his  mistress  a very  small  cask  of  wine, 
which  he  warmly  commended  as  very  choice  and  old, 
upon  which  she  said  drily : “ It  is  very  little  of  its 
age.”  The  story  is  also  told  by  Athenaeus. 

Queen  Elizabeth,  according  to  the  tradition,  once 
asked  Sir  Walter  Ealeigh  whether  he  could  tell  the 
weight  of  smoke,  and  he  at  once  undertook  to  do  so. 
Having  smoked  a pipe  of  tobacco,  he  carefully  weighed 
the  ashes,  and  already  knowing  the  weight  of  the 
tobacco,  he  informed  the  queen  that  the  difference  was 
the  weight  of  the  smoke.  Ealeigh  may  have  imitated 
the  philosopher  in  Lucian’s  story : Some  one,  think- 
ing to  puzzle  Demonax,  asked  him,  'If  I burn  a 
thousand  pounds  of  fuel,  how  many  pounds  of  it  go 
into  smoke?’  'Weigh  the  ashes,’  he  replied,  'and  all 
the  residue  must  be  smoke.’  ” 

Laird  Braco,  an  ancestor  of  the  Earls  of  Fife,  was  a 
very  avaricious  man.  One  day  a tenant,  who  called 
upon  him  to  pay  his  rent,  happened  to  be  deficient  a 
single  farthing.  The  amount  could  not  be  excused, 
and  the  farmer  had  to  seek  the  farthing.  When  the 
business  was  adjusted,  the  farmer  said  to  the  laird, 
" Now,  Braco,  I would  gie  ye  a shilling  for  a sight  of 
a’  the  gowd  and  siller  ye  hae.”  "Weel,  man,”  said 
Braco,  " it  sail  no  cost  ye  ony  mair,”  and  accordingly, 
having  first  received  and  pocketed  the  shilling,  the 
laird  exhibited  several  iron  boxes  filled  with  gold 


60 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


and  silver  coin.  “ Now,”  said  the  farmer,  I’m  as 
rich  as  yourseh,  Braco.”  “Ay,  man,”  quoth  Braco, 
''  how  can  that  be  ? ” ''  Because  I’ve  sem  it,  and  you 

can  do  nae  mair.” — A very  similar  story  is  current 
among  the  Chinese : A rich  priest  had  hoarded  a fine 
collection  of  jewels,  to  which  he  was  constantly  adding, 
and  of  which  he  was  inordinately  proud.  Upon  show- 
ing them  one  day  to  a friend,  the  latter  feasted  his 
eyes  for  some  time,  and  on  taking  his  leave  thanked 
his  host  for  the  jewels.  ''  How  ? ” cries  the  priest ; ''  I 
have  not  given  them  to  you.  Why  do  you  thank 
me?”  ‘"Well,”  replied  his  friend,  “I  have  at  least 
had  as  much  pleasure  from  seeing  them  as  you  can 
have,  and  the  only  difference  between  us,  that  I 
can  see,  is  that  you  have  the  trouble  of  collecting 
them.”  ^ 

And  this  is  another  well-worn  jest  which  has  also 
its  parallel  in  China : Two  fellows  meeting,  one  asked 
the  other  why  he  looked  so  sad.  ''  I have  good  reason 
for  it,”  said  the  other;  ^'poor  Jack  such-a-one,  the 
greatest  crony  and  friend  I had  in  the  world,  was 
hanged  but  two  days  ago.”  ''  What  had  he  done  ? ” 
said  the  first.  ''  Alas  ! ” replied  the  other,  “ he  did  no 
more  than  you  or  I should  have  done  on  the  like 
occasion : he  found  a bridle  on  the  road,  and  took  it 
up.”  What ! ” says  the  other,  hang  a man  for  tak- 
ing a bridle ! That’s  hard  indeed.”  ''  To  tell  the 
truth  of  the  matter,”  says  the  other,  ''  there  was  a 

^ ‘ Folk-Lore  in  China,|and  its  affinities  with  that  of  the  Aryan  and 
Semitic  Races.’  By  M.  B.  Dennys.  Hong-Kong  : 1876.  P.151. 


INTRODUCTION. 


61 


horse  tied  to  the  other  end  of  — The  Chinese  tell 
the  story  thus : A man  was  condemned  to  the  cangue 
[a  kind  of  portable  pillory],  and  some  of  his  friends 
seeing  him  asked  him  the  cause  of  his  punishment. 
He  said  to  them,  ''  As  I happened  to  go  along  a road 
I saw  a little  cord  on  the  ground ; thinking  it  might  be 
useful  for  something,  I took  it  and  went  away.  That 
is  the  cause  of  my  misfortune.'’  His  friends  replied, 
“ Never  has  the  theft  of  a cord  led  any  one  to  such  a 
torture."  The  thief  said,  ''  It  is  true  there  was  some- 
thing at  the  end  of  the  cord."  They  asked  him 
what  it  was,  and  he  replied,  ''  It  was  only  two  little 
plough-oxen."  2 

The  absurd  decisions  of  judges  or  magistrates  seem 
to  have  been  favourite  subjects  of  popular  jests  from 
remote  times.  In  the  Talmud  the  judges  of  the  city 
of  Sodom  are  represented  as  mockers  and  perverters 
of  justice  : A man  having  cut  off  the  ear  of  his 
neighbour's  ass,  the  judge  said  to  the  owner,  ''Let  him 
have  the  ass  till  the  ear  is  grown  again,  that  it  may 
be  returned  to  thee  as  thou  wishest."  But  it  is  not 
unlikely  that  the  Talmudists  produced  stories  of 
Asiatic  Dogberries  which  had  been  current  long  before 
their  days,  and  foisted  them  on  the  people  of  Sodom. 
However  this  may  be,  the  sage  decree  finds  a parallel 
in  the  ' Katha  Sarit  Sagara : ' A washerman  com- 

^ ‘ A Collection  of  Jests,  Epigrams,  Epitaphs,’  &c.  Edinburgh : 
1753. 

^ “ Contes  et  Bon  Mots,  extraits  d’un  livre  chinois,  intitule  ‘ Sias  li 
Siao,’  traduit  par  M.  Stanislas  Julien,”  in  the  ‘Journal  Asiatique,’ 
tome  iv.,  1824. 


62 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


plained  before  a magistrate  that  the  wife  of  a Brah- 
man had  beaten  his  donkey,  and  the  animal,  in  running 
away,  had  fallen  into  a pit  and  broken  its  hoof.  On 
the  other  side,  the  Brahman  accused  the  washerman  of 
having  assaulted  his  wife,  and  thereby  caused  her  to 
miscarry.  The  magistrate  ruled:  “Since  the  donkey’s 
hoof  is  broken,  let  the  Brahman  carry  the  donkey’s 
load  till  it  is  again  fit  for  work ; and  let  the  washerman 
keep  the  Brahman’s  wife  till  she  is  in  the  condition  she 
was  in  before  he  beat  her.” — The  Persian  tale  of  the 
Kazi  of  Emessa  (the  leading  incident  of  which  is  the 
“pound  of  flesh”  of  Shakspeare’s  Shylock)  furnishes 
similar  examples  of  judicial  wisdom.  The  people  of 
that  town  (now  called  Hums)  being  noted  for  their 
stupidity — in  popular  stories,  at  all  events — it  is  the 
Gotham  of  the  East.  Among  other  cases  brought 
before  the  kazi  in  this  story,  a man  complained  that 
the  merchant  in  helping  him  to  extricate  his  ass  out 
of  the  mud,  in  which  it  had  stuck  fast,  had  pulled  off* 
its  tail.  “ Well,”  says  the  kazi,  “ fetch  my  ass,  and  let 
the  man  pull  off  its  tail.”  The  animal  was  brought 
accordingly,  and  the  man  exerted  all  his  strength  to 
avenge  the  insult  which  had  been  put  upon  his 
favourite.  But  an  ass  that  had  carried  the  kazi  was 
not  likely  to  put  up  with  such  an  indignity,  and  soon 
testified  his  resentment  by  several  hearty  kicks,  which 
made  the  man  faint.  When  he  recovered  he  begged 
leave  to  decline  any  further  satisfaction ; but  the  kazi 
said  it  was  a pity  he  should  not  have  his  revenge,  and 
he  might  take  his  own  time.  But  the  more  he  pulled 


INTKODUCTION. 


63 


the  harder  the  vicious  animal  kicked,  till  at  last  the 
poor  man,  all  bruises  and  blood,  declared  that  he  had 
accused  the  merchant  falsely,  for  his  own  ass  never 
had  a tail.  Then  the  judge  mulcted  him  in  100 
dinars.  Another  man  accused  the  merchant  of  having 
thrown  a stone  at  his  runaway  mule,  and  knocked  out 
one  of  his  eyes,  thus  reducing  the  value  of  the  mule 
by  one-half — before  it  lost  its  eye  the  mule  was  worth 
1000  dirhams.  ''  This  is  a very  simple  case,”  said  the 
judge ; ''  take  a saw,  cut  the  mule  in  two,  give  him  the 
blind  half,  for  which  he  must  pay  you  500  dirhams, 
and  keep  the  other  side  to  yourself.”  But  the  man 
objected  to  this  suggestion,  and  was  therefore  fined  in 
100  dinars.  Then  two  young  men  came  forward  and 
accused  the  merchant  of  having  jumped  from  the  roof 
of  a house  on  to  the  street  below,  where  there  was  a 
commotion,  and  lighting  on  their  father,  had  killed 
him  on  the  spot.  The  kazi  asked  them  whether  they 
thought  the  roof  of  the  court-house  was  about  the 
height  of  the  house  that  the  merchant  jumped  from. 
They  replied  that  they  thought  it  was ; upon  which 
the  kazi  decreed  that  the  merchant  should  go  to  sleep 
on  the  ground,  and  that  they  should  get  upon  the  roof 
and  jump  down  upon  him : and  that,  as  the  right  of 
blood  belonged  to  them  equally,  they  must  take  care 
to  jump  both  at  once.  They  accordingly  went  upon 
the  roof ; but  when  they  looked  below  they  felt  alarmed 
at  the  height,  and  so  came  down  again,  declaring  that 
if  they  had  ten  lives  they  could  not  expect  to  escape. 
The  kazi  said  he  could  not  help  that : they  had  de- 


64 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


manded  retaliation,  and  retaliation  they  should  have ; 
but  he  could  not  alter  the  law  to  please  them.  So 
they  gave  up  their  claim,  but  the  kazi  mulcted  them 
also  in  the  sum  of  100  dinars.  This  last  incident 
is  often  found  in  our  own  jest-books,  thus : A Flem- 
ish tyler  accidentally  fell  from  the  top  of  a house  upon 
a Spaniard  and  killed  him,  though  he  escaped  himself. 
The  next  of  blood  prosecuted  his  death  with  great 
violence  against  the  tyler,  and  when  offered  pecuniary 
recompense,  nothing  could  serve  him  but  lex  talionis. 
Hereupon  the  judge  said  to  him,  if  he  did  insist  upon 
that  sentence,  he  should  go  up  to  the  top  of  the  same 
house,  and  fall  down  from  thence  upon  the  tyler.^  In 
another  version,  a tailor,  looking  at  two  drunken  fel- 
lows fighting  in  the  street,  fell  out  of  the  window  and 
killed  an  old  man,  whose  son  caused  him  to  be  appre- 
hended on  a charge  of  murder.  When  the  trial  came 
on,  the  jury  could  not  bring  in  a verdict  of  wilful 
murder,  neither  could  they  acquit  him;  so  they  re- 
ferred the  case  to  the  judges,  who  in  their  turn  referred 
it  to  the  king ; and  the  king  asked  George  Buchanan’s 
opinion,  who  said  that  the  tailor  should  stand  below 
and  let  the  old  man’s  son  fall  on  him.^ 

Thus  many  of  the  tales  in  our  jest-books,  which 
are  generally  believed  to  be  racy  of  the  soil,”  and 
many  of  the  “ good  things  ” ascribed  to  wits  of  recent 
times,  are  also  current  as  genuine  in  other  countries 

^ ‘A  Collection  of  Jests,  Epigrams,  Epitaphs,’  &c.  Edinburgh : 1753. 

2 ‘ The  Witty  and  Entertaining  Exploits  of  George  Buchanan, 
commonly  called  the  King’s  Fool.’  Leith;  1705. 


INTRODUCTION. 


65 


of  Europe,  and  winged  their  way  from  the  Far  East 
ages  before  Joe  Miller  ” became,  what  it  purports  to 
be,  ' The  Wits’  Vade  Mecum.’  Perhaps  the  best  jest 
in  that  popular  jest-book  is  the  name  of  Joe  Miller 
on  its  title-page.  It  is  a common  practice  in  most 
countries  to  prefix  to  a new  collection  of  old  jokes  the 
name  of  some  man  who  was  famed  for  his  wit  in  his 
day  and  generation,  and  to  credit  him  with  clever  or 
amusing  things  which  he  never  did  or  said : as  in  the 
case  of  the  Italian  ecclesiastic  Arlotto ; the  German 
arch -rogue  Tyl  Eulenspiegel ; our  English  Skelton, 
George  Peele,  Dick  Tarlton,  and  Archie  Armstrong ; 
the  Turkish  Khoja  Kasr-ed-Din  Efendi;  and  the 
Indian  Temal  Eamakistnan,  the  Scogin  of  Madras. 
But  it  is  said  that  Joe  Miller,  albeit  a comedian  by 
profession,  was  utterly  incapable  of  making  an  ''  orig- 
inal” joke — that  he  was,  in  fact,  a man  of  somewhat 
saturnine  disposition:  but  no  matter;  the  jest-book 
which  has  immortalised  his  name — which  his  stage 
career  could  never  have  done  for  him — contains  some 
of  the  most  diverting  tales  that  are  to  be  found  in  our 
own  or  any  other  language,  although  he  had  no  more 
a hand  in  its  compilation  than  he  had  in  that  of  the 
Talmud ! 

The  prototypes  of — or,  at  least,  parallels  to — most 
European  tales  of  the  Gothamite  class  have  been 
discovered,  within  quite  recent  years,  in  the  ' Jatakas’ 
and  other  Buddhist  works.^  It  would  probably  be 

^ I have  made  a comprehensive  collection  of  Stories  of  Noodledom, 
Asiatic  as  well  as  European,  which  is  designed,  like  the  present  work, 


66 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


going  too  far,  however,  to  maintain  that  all  such  tales 
are  of  Buddhist  invention.  There  must  have  existed 
in  India,  both  orally  and  in  writing,  a great  mass  of 
stories  and  fables  before  the  promulgation  of  Gau- 
tama’s doctrines ; and  if  the  Brahmans  in  later  ages 
drew  largely  from  the  literary  compositions  of  their 
enemies,  perhaps  they  were,  in  some  instances,  only 
taking  back  their  own.  Nevertheless,  there  can  be 
no  doubt  that  Buddhist  literature  is  peculiarly  rich 
in  original  tales,  apologues,  and  parables,  which  owe 
nothing  to  the  fictions  of  the  earlier  Hindus.  , 

But  while  most  of  the  popular  tales  of  Europe 
are  traceable  to  ancient  Indian  sources,  and  the  be- 
lief has  been  long  general  among  scholars  that  India 
was  the  cradle-land  of  science  and  literature,  the 
opinion  is  daily  gaining  ground  that  Egypt,  not  India, 
was  the  actual  centre  from  which  both  the  East  and 
the  West  derived  their  civilisation.  It  cannot  be 
denied  that  there  is  much  more  certainty  respecting 
ancient  dates  in  connection  with  Egyptian  history 
than  there  is  regarding  those  of  any  other  country ; 
while  on  the  subject  of  dates  all  through  India,  be- 
fore the  time  of  Alexander’s  conquest,  there  is  a very 
inconvenient  vagueness.  But  in  Egyptian  history  we 
have  absolute  dates  for  thousands  of  years  before 
Christ.  The  researches  of  modern  Egyptologists  have 
resulted  in  surprising  and  most  important  discoveries, 
both  in  monumental  inscriptions  and  in  papyri ; and 

to  illustrate  the  curious  migrations  of  popular  fictions  ; published 
by  Mr  Elliot  Stock,  London  : 1886, 


INTRODUCTION. 


67 


when  the  manuscripts  recently  unearthed  in  Egypt 
have  been  carefully  examined  by  competent  scholars, 
new  facts  may  be  brought  to  light,  to  upset  some  of 
our  present  theories  as  to  the  origin  and  diffusion  of 
literature  and  science.^  That  the  Indian  'Vedas’  and 
the  grand  epics  ' Eamayana  ’ and  ' Mahabharata  ’ are 
very  old — though  certainly  not  of  such  high  antiquity 
as  was  claimed  for  them  by  Sir  William  Jones  and 
other  Sanskritists  in  the  last  century — is  generally  ad- 
mitted by  those  best  qualified  to  judge,  but  their  date 
is  not  positively  ascertained.  In  Egyptian  literature, 
however,  there  is  preserved  among  the  papyri  in  the 
British  Museum  a romance,  or  fairy  tale,  of  singular 
interest,  of  two  brothers  Anapii  and  Satii, — the  first 
part  of  which  presents  a parallel  to  the  Biblical  in- 
cident of  Joseph  and  the  wife  of  Potiphar — which 
was  composed  in  the  fourteenth  century  before  Christ, 
when  Pharaoh  Eamses  Miamun,  founder  of  Pithom 


^ “ We  know,”  says  Sir  Richard  F.  Burton,  “that  the  apologue,  the 
beast-fable  proper,  is  neither  Indian  nor  Esopic  ; to  mention  no 
others,  the  ^ Lion  and  the  Mouse  ’ is  told  in  a Leyden  papyrus.  . . . 
From  the  Nile  banks  it  was  but  a step  to  Phoenicia  and  Asia  Minor, 
and  thence,  with  the  alphabet,  the  fable  went  to  Greece  ; while  east- 
ward it  found  a new  centre  of  civilisation  in  Babylonia  and  Assyria, 
lacking,  however,  the  alphabet.  When  the  two  great  sources  were 
connected  by  Alexander  of  Macedon,  who  completed  what  Sesostris 
and  Semiramis  had  begun  ; when  the  Medo-Bactrian  kingdom  was 
founded,  and  when  the  Greeks  took  moral  possession  of  Persia  under 
the  Selucides,  then  the  fable  would  find  its  way  to  India,  doubtless 
meeting  there  some  rude  and  fantastic  kinsman  of  Buddhistic  ‘ per- 
suasion.’ The  mingling  of  blood  would  produce  a fine  robust  race, 
and  after  the  second  century  (a.d.)  Indian  stories  spread  over  the 
civilised  world,  between  Rome  and  China.” — ‘The  Academy,’ June 
20,  1885. 


68 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


and  Eamses,  ruled  at  Thebes,  and  literature,  says 
Deutsch,  ''  celebrated  its  highest  triumphs  at  his 
brilliant  court.”  Mne  pre-eminent  savans  were  at- 
tached to  the  person  of  that  monarch,  at  whose  court 
Moses  was  educated.  We  have  in  this  precious  relic 
of  antiquity,  contemporary  delineations  of  the  man- 
ners and  customs,  the  notions  and  views,  of  the 
Egyptians  of  3000  years  ago.  And  it  is  to  be  hoped 
that  much  more  will  yet  be  discovered  from  the 
literary  remains  so  miraculously  preserved  beneath 
ruined  temples,  palaces,  and  sand-heaps,  respecting 
not  only  the  ''learning  of  the  Egyptians,”  but  also 
their  folk-lore. 


NOTE. 

The  Arabian  Eomance  of  Antar  (pp.  39-49). 

The  Kassas,  or  story-tellers  of  the  East,  can  be  traced  up  to 
the  first  century  of  the  Hijra.  It  is  said  that  the  first  was 
Obeyd,  the  son  of  Omayr,  in  the  time  of  Omar,  who  pursued 
his  vocation  at  Mecca.  The  first  story-teller  in  Egypt  was 
Selim,  son  of  Auz,  a.h.  39  (a.d.  659)*  One  of  their  favourite 
subjects  was  doubtless  the  romantic  exploits  of  Antar,  the  father 
of  Arab  chivalry  ; but  the  work  itself  was  not  written  till  the 
sixth  century  of  the  Hijra,  the  author  being  Abii-’l  Moyed 
Muhammed  Ibn  Es-Saygh,  surnamed  for  this  reason  El-Antarf, 
or  the  Antarian.  The  year  of  his  death  is  not  known  ; but  Abu 
Ossaibah,  in  his  biography,  mentions  a letter  which  he  addressed 
to  Hajjet-ed-Dfn  Merwan,  vazfr  of  the  Atabeg  Zangui,  son  of 
Aksaikar,  who  died  a.h.  640  (a.d.  1145).  The  Arabian  bio- 
grapher’s account  of  him  is,  that  he  was  a celebrated  physician 


INTKODUCTION. 


69 


and  scholar,  and  distinguished  himself  in  philosophy  and  other 
branches  of  science.  ‘‘The  physician  Sedid-ed-Din  Mahmud 
ben  Omar  informed  me,”  he  says,  “ that  the  Antari  wrote  at  the 
beginning  of  his  career  traditions  (tales)  of  Antar  the  Absite, 
and  that  he  became  celebrated  through  the  attribute  of  this 
name.”  In  one  of  the  copies  of  the  Eomance  the  author  is  said 
to  have  been  Sayyid  Yusuf,  son  of  Ismael,  who  procured  most 
of  his  materials  from  writers  versed  in  ancient  traditions,  espe- 
cially from  a learned  contemporary  of  Harun-er-Kashid,  named 
El-Asmay,  to  whom  the  work  is  sometimes  attributed.^ 

Antar  is  no  imaginary  hero  ; he  is  well  known  as  a famous 
warrior,  and  as  the  author  of  one  of  the  seven  prize  poems 
{Mu^allakdt)  which  were  suspended  in  the  Temple  at  Mecca 
before  the  time  of  Muhammed.  That  the  Arabs  possessed  tradi- 
tions of  the  warlike  exploits  of  Antar  long  before  they  were 
reduced  to  writing,  seems  evident  from  a saying  ascribed  to 
Muhammed,  who,  while  sternly  prohibiting  his  followers  from 
listening  to  the  romances  which  had  been  brought  from  Persia, 
advised  them  to  cherish  the  tales  of  the  hero  Antar,  “ that  their 
hearts  might  become  as  steel.”  The  Eomance  of  Antar  is  usually 
bound  up  in  forty-five  volumes ; and  it  was  from  an  abridged 
copy  that  Terrick  Hamilton  made  a translation  of  the  First  Part 
— which  treats  of  the  hero  from  his  birth  to  his  marriage — which 
was  published  in  four  octavo  volumes,  1819-20.  An  epitome  of 
this  part  is  included  in  my  ‘ Arabian  Poetry  for  English  Eeaders,’ 
1881,  from  the  appendix  to  which  I may  here  cite  my  sketch  of 
the  characters  in  the  Eomance,  the  work  being  now  out  of  print. 

The  hero  Antar,  the  son  of  Sheddad,  is  always  the  central 
figure.  His  blackness  of  complexion,  his  homeliness — even  ugli- 
ness— of  feature,  are  forgotten  in  admiration  of  his  prodigious 
strength  of  arm  and  his  invincible  courage  ; his  lofty  and  im- 
passioned verses  ; his  greatness  of  soul  and  his  tenderness  of 
heart.  A true  knight,  sans  peur  et  sans  reproche:  bold  as  a 
lion  when  face  to  face  with  his  foes  ; magnanimous  towards  an 
inferior  antagonist ; soft  and  gentle  when  he  thinks  of  his 
beloved  Abla,  still  more  so  when  in  her  presence.  Abla,  the 
beauteous  Abla,  whose  dark  flowing  tresses  first  ensnared  the 
1 ‘ Asiatic  Journal/ vol.  xxvii.,  1838. 


70 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


heart  of  the  hero,  and  whose  bright  eyes  completed  the  capture  ; 
a true  Bedouin  damsel  : like  Desdemona  with  the  Moor,  she 
saw  Antar’s  beauty  in  his  mind.  And  Antar — spite  of  his  black 
complexion,  spite  of  his  base  birth — “ loved  her  with  the  love  of 
a noble- born  hero  ! ” When  the  enemy  approaches  the  tents  of 
his  tribe — when  the  time  has  come  for  sword-blows  and  spear- 
thrusts — his  base  origin  is  forgotten  : his  sword  is  then  his 
father,  and  the  spear  in  his  right  hand  is  his  noble  kinsman  ! 

The  other  characters  are  of  course  subordinated  to  the  hero 
and  his  achievements  ; yet  each  has  an  individuality  which  is 
strongly  marked.  Zuhayr,  king  of  the  tribes  of  Abs  and  Adnan, 
of  Fazarah  and  Ghiftan — a prince  possessing  all  the  virtues  and 
not  a few  of  the  failings  of  his  age  and  race ; chivalrous  himself, 
he  was  not  slow  to  recognise  in  the  youthful  son  of  Sheddad, 
the  future  hero.  Prince  Shas,  naturally  ill-tempered,  proud  and 
tyrannical,  yet  not  without  his  good  points,  after  adversity  had 
tamed  his  spirit.  Prince  Malik,  the  brave  but  gentle  son  of  Zu- 
hayr ; Antar’s  first  friend  and  protector  against  the  malice  of  his 
enemies ; ever  ready  to  plead  eloquently  in  his  favour,  or  to 
draw  his  sword  when  the  hero  was  overwhelmed  with  numbers. 
Sheddad,  the  father  of  Antar  ; a bold  fellow — “ of  a heavy- 
handed  kin  ; a good  smiter  when  help  was  needed  ” ; proud  of  his 
pure  blood  as  ever  was  hidalgo,  yet  yearning  towards  his  brave 
son  when  his  deeds  were  noised  abroad,  and  bitterly  lamenting 
his  reported  death.  Zebiba,  his  simple-minded  mother ; like 
mothers  of  great  men  in  general,  did  not  appreciate  her  son’s 
heroic  achievements  : thought  he  had  much  better  stay  at  home 
and  help  her  to  tend  the  flocks.  Malik,  the  father  of  Abla  ; 
crafty,  calculating,  sordid,  perfidious,  malicious,  time-serving ; 
mthal  a great  stickler  for  the  honour  of  his  family.  Amara, 
the  Bedouin  exquisite  ; proud,  boastful ; at  heart  a coward. 
Shibub,  the  half-brother  of  Antar  and  his  trusty  squire  ; fleet  of 
foot,  and  hence  called  Father  of  the  Wind  ; a dexterous  archer  ; 
ready  with  admirable  devices  for  every  emergency  : never  had 
gallant  knight  a more  useful  auxiliary. 

With  the  noble  lyric  of  the  hero’s  death  the  curtain  is  appro- 
priately dropped  on  the  stirring  drama  : ‘‘  They  say  that  an  old 
shaykh  [his  enemy],  softened  by  the  fate  of  the  hero  who  had 


INTEODUCTION. 


71 


made  himself  illustrious  by  so  many  exploits,  wept  over  his 
corpse,  covered  it  with  sand,  and  uttered  these  words  : Glory  to 
thee,  brave  warrior  ! who,  during  thy  life,  hast  been  the  defender  of 
thy  tribe,  and  who,  even  after  thy  death,  hast  saved  thy  brethren 
by  the  terror  of  thy  corpse  and  of  thy  name  ! May  thy  soul  live  for 
ever  ! May  the  refreshing  dews  moisten  the  ground  of  this  thy  last 
exploit  /”  Truly  has  it  been  said,  ‘‘  Happy  is  the  warrior  whose 
very  enemies  praise  him.”  The  moral  of  the  story  (for  a moral 
there  is  to  those  who  can  read  it  aright)  is,  the  triumph  of  a lofty 
mind  and  a resolute  will  over  the  clogging  circumstances  of 
humble  birth  and  class-prejudice. 


72 


INVISIBLE  CAPS  AND  CLOAKS:  SHOES  OF  SWIFTNESS: 
THE  INEXHAUSTIBLE  PUESE,  ETC. 


FAVOUEITE  ornament  of  popular  fictions,  re- 


marks  Price,  in  his  edition  of  Warton’s  'History 
of  English  Poetry,’  " is  the  highly  gifted  object  which 
is  to  supply  the  fortunate  owner  with  the  gratification 
of  some  particular  wish,  or  to  furnish  him  with  the 
golden  means  of  gratifying  every  want.”  Of  this  class 
of  magical  objects  are  the  inexhaustible  purse  of  Eor- 
tunatus  and  the  wishing-cap  and  shoes  of  swiftness 
which  so  frequently  figure  in  our  fairy  tales.  The 
romance  of  Fortunatus,  so  long  a nursery  favourite  in 
this  country,  and  indispensable  from  the  chapman’s 
miscellaneous  stock  of  penny  story-books,  ballads,  and 
small-wares,  is  probably  little  known  to  juveniles  of 
the  present  day,  and  copies  have  become  so  rare  as 
to  be  considered  as  treasures  by  collectors  of  literary 
curiosities.  The  circumstance  of  the  opening  scene  of 
the  romance  being  the  city  of  Pamagosta,  in  the  island 
of  Cyprus,  might  suggest  that  it  was  of  Venetian 
origin ; but  according  to  a copy  in  the  British  Museum, 


INVISIBLE  CAPS  AND  CLOAKS,  ETC. 


73 


printed  in  1682  (there  is  an  imperfect  copy  dated 
six  years  earlier),  it  was  ''  first  penned  in  the  Dutch 
[?  German]  tongue,  thence  abstracted,  and  was  first 
put  into  English  by  T.  C.”  — that  is,  by  Thomas 
Churchyarde.  Mr  Ashton,  in  his  ' Chap-Books  of  the 
Eighteenth  Century,’  says  that  the  earliest  notice  he 
has  found  of  the  romance  is  Tortunatus  Augsp.  zu 
trucken  verordnet  durch  J.  Hey  bier,  1509,’  and  that 
it  seems  to  have  been  popular,  for  there  was  a French 
edition,  ' Histoire  des  aventures  de  Eortunatus,  trad, 
de  I’Espagn.’:  Eouen,  1656.  As  usual  with  chap-books, 
the  title-page  of  an  edition  printed  at  Glasgow,  so  late 
as  the  year  1790,  gives  an  abstract  of  the  chief  inci- 
dents of  the  tale : ''  The  History  of  Eortunatus ; setting 
forth  his  birth,  life,  travels,  and  adventures,  in  most 
parts  of  the  world;  how  Lady  Fortune  appeared  to 
him,  and  gave  him  a Kich  Purse  that  never  wanted 
money ; and  also  in  his  travels  how  he  got  from  the 
Soldan  a Wishing  Hat,  that  by  putting  it  on  his  head 
he  could  convey  himself  immediately  into  whatever 
place  he  desired.  With  an  account  how  Eortunatus 
on  his  deathbed  declared  to  his  two  sons,  Ampedo  and 
Andolocia,  the  virtue  of  his  Purse  and  Hat.”  Eor- 
tunatus, having  quitted  the  service  of  the  Earl  of 
Flanders  at  the  instigation  of  his  fellow-chamberlain, 
who  falsely  represented  to  him  that  their  master  had 
a secret  design  to  kill  them  both,  proceeded  from 
Venice  to  Calais,  and  thence  to  London,  where,  meet- 
ing with  some  merchants  of  Cyprus,  he  spent  all  his 
money  in  riotous  living,  after  which  he  took  shipping, 


74 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


and  soon  arrived  at  Picardy,  in  Prance.  Being  be- 
nighted in  a wood,  he  lay  down  to  sleep  till  the 
morning.  ''As  soon  as  Portunatus  awoke,  he  saw 
standing  before  him  a fair  lady  with  her  eyes  muffled. 
^ I beseech  thee,’  said  he,  ' sweet  virgin,  for  the  love 
of  God  to  assist  me,  that  I may  get  out  of  this  wood, 
for  I have  travelled  a great  way  without  food.’  She 
asked  what  country  he  was  of,  and  he  replied,  ' Of 
Cyprus ; and  I am  constrained  by  poverty  to  seek  my 
fortune.’  'Pear  not,  Portunatus,’  said  she;  'I  am 
the  Goddess  of  Portune,  and  by  permission  of  Heaven 
have  the  power  of  Six  Gifts,  one  of  which  I will  bestow 
on  thee,  so  choose  for  yourself ; they  are : Wisdom, 
Strength,  Eiches,  Health,  Beauty,  and  Long  Life.’ 
Said  Portunatus,  ' I desire  to  have  Eiches,  as  long 
as  I live.’  With  that  she  gave  him  a Purse,  saying, 
' As  often  as  you  put  your  hand  into  this  purse,  you 
shall  find  ten  pounds  of  the  coin  of  any  nation  thou 
shalt  happen  to  be  in.’  Portunatus  returned  many 
thanks  to  the  goddess.  Then  she  bade  him  follow  her 
out  of  the  wood,  and  so  vanished.”  After  this  our 
hero  returns  to  Pamagosta,  where  he  learns  that  his 
father  and  mother  are  both  dead.  He  purchased  his 
father’s  house,  and  pulled  it  down,  and  built  on  its 
site  a stately  palace ; then  he  married  Cassandra,  the 
youngest  daughter  of  a noble  earl,  by  whom  he  had 
two  sons,  Ampedo  and  Andolocia.  Twelve  years  after 
his  marriage  he  resolved  to  travel  once  more,  and 
taking  leave  of  his  wife  and  children,  sailed  for  Alex- 
andria, where  he  made  acquaintance  with  the  Soldan. 


INVISIBLE  CAPS  AND  CLOAKS,  ETC. 


75 


"‘Fortunatus,  after  supper,  opened  his  purse,  and  gave 
all  the  Soldan’s  servants  very  liberally.  The  Soldan, 
being  pleased,  told  him  he  would  show  him  such 
curiosities  as  he  had  never  seen.  Then  he  took  him 
to  a strong  marble  tower.  In  the  first  room  were 
several  very  rich  vessels  and  jewels ; in  the  second 
he  showed  him  several  vessels  of  gold  coin,  with  a fine 
wardrobe  of  garments,  and  golden  candlesticks  which 
shone  all  over  the  room,  and  mightily  pleased  Fortu- 
natus.  Then  the  Soldan  showed  him  his  bed-chamber, 
which  was  finely  adorned,  and  likewise  a small  felt 
Hat,  simple  to  behold,  saying,  ' I set  more  value  on 
this  hat  than  on  all  my  jewels,  as  such  another  is  not 
to  be  had,  for  it  lets  a person  be  wherever  he  doth 
wish.’  Fortunatus  imagined  the  Hat  would  agree  very 
well  with  his  Purse,  and  thereupon  put  it  on  his 
head,  saying  he  should  be  glad  of  a hat  that  had  such 
virtue.  So  the  Soldan  immediately  gave  it  him.  With 
that  he  suddenly  wished  himself  in  his  ship,  it  being 
then  under  sail,  that  he  might  return  to  his  own 
country.  The  Soldan,  looking  out  at  his  window,  and 
seeing  the  ship  under  sail,  was  very  angry,  and  com- 
manded his  men  to  fetch  him  back,  declaring  that,  if 
they  took  him,  he  should  immediately  be  put  to  death. 
But  Fortunatus  was  too  quick  for  them,  and  arriving 
safe  at  Famagosta,  very  richly  laden,  was  joyfully 
received  by  his  wife,  his  two  sons,  and  the  citizens.” 

The  Shoes  of  Swiftness  of  the  renowned  hero  Jack 
the  Giant-Killer  possessed  similar  qualities  to  those 
of  the  wonderful  Hat  of  Fortunatus.  There  can  be  no 


76 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


doubt  that  the  tale  of  Jack  and  the  Giants  came  to  us 
from  the  North ; and  since  the  incidents  are  for  the  most 
part  also  found  in  Asiatic  popular  fictions,  they  may 
perhaps  be  considered  as  survivals  of  primitive  Aryan 
myths,  relating  to  conflicts  with  monstrous  beasts,  or 
hardly  less  brutal  aboriginal  races  of  men.  The  hero 
obtained  his  shoes  of  swiftness  and  other  magical 
things  in  this  wise,  according  to  the  veracious  nar- 
rative of  his  exploits : King  Arthur  and  his  son  were 
travelling  about,  and  meeting  with  Jack,  they  joined 
company.  The  king  being  in  want  of  money.  Jack 
proposed  that  they  should  sup  and  sleep  at  the  house 
of  a ''  huge  and  monstrous  ’’  giant,  who  had  three  heads 
(none  of  which  seems  to  have  been  of  much  account), 
and  who  could  beat  five  hundred  men  in  armour.  So 
Jack  goes  to  the  house  of  this  giant,  and  tells  him 
that  the  king's  son  is  coming  with  a thousand  men, 
which  would  prove  more  than  a match  for  him.  ''  This 
is  heavy  news  indeed,”  quoth  the  giant ; but  I have  a 
large  vault  underground  where  I shall  run  and  hide 
myself.”  While  the  giant  is  thus  in  his  self-imposed 
durance.  Jack  and  the  prince  ate  heartily  at  his  ex- 
pense, and  slept  soundly  till  morning,  when  they  arose 
and  took  his  money.  Jack  then  goes  to  release  the 
giant,  who  asked  what  he  should  give  him  for  his  care, 
seeing  that  his  castle  was  not  demolished.  “ Why,” 
answered  Jack, '' nothing  but  your  old  rusty  sword, 
the  coat  in  the  closet,  and  the  cap  and  shoes  which 
you  keep  at  the  bed-head.”  Quoth  the  giant  readily, 
''  Thou  shalt  have  them  with  all  my  heart,  as  a just 


INVISIBLE  CAPS  AND  CLOAKS,  ETC. 


77 


reward  for  thy  kindness  in  protecting  me  from  the 
king’s  son ; and  be  sure  that  thou  carefully  keep  them 
for  my  sake,  for  they  are  things  of  most  excellent  use : 
the  coat  will  keep  you  invisible ; the  cap  will  furnish 
you  with  knowledge ; the  sivord  cuts  whatever  you 
strike;  and  the  shoes  are  of  extraordinary  swiftness!' 

These  marvellously  endowed  objects  play  important 
parts  in  the  romances  and  popular  fictions  of  Northern 
Europe.  The  shoes  of  swiftness  were  worn  by  Loke 
when  he  escaped  from  hell.  Velent  the  smith,  in  the 
Edda  of  Ssemund,  forged  a “ sword  of  sharpness,” 
called  Balmung  in  the  Wilkina  Saga,  and  it  was  so 
sharp  that  when  Velent  cleft  his  rival  CEmilius  with 
it,  the  blade  seemed  to  the  latter  only  like  cold  water 
running  down  his  body.  Shake  thyself,”  said  Velent : 
he  did  so,  and  fell  in  two  halves,  one  on  each  side  of 
the  chair.  The  coat  of  invisibility  is  identical  with 
the  tarn-hnt,  or  hat  of  darkness,  celebrated  in  the 
' Nibelungenlied  ’ and  in  the  ‘ Mfflunga  Saga,’  and 
with  the  nebel  kappe,  or  cloud-cap,  fabled  to  belong 
to  King  Alberich  and  the  other  dwarfs  of  old  German 
romance. — In  the  German  fairy  tale  of  The  Nose- 
Tree,”  three  poor  soldiers  receive  from  a dwarf — one, 
a cloak,  which,  whenever  the  owner  put  it  on  his 
shoulders,  accomplished  anything  he  desired ; the 
second,  a purse,  which  was  always  full  of  gold,  no 
matter  how  much  was  taken  out  of  it ; the  third,  a 
horn,  that  drew  crowds  around  it  whenever  it  played ; 
and  in  the  story  of  the  ''  Dancing  Shoes  ” (which  is 
also  domiciled  in  Portugal — see  ‘ Portuguese  Eolk- 


78 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


Tales/  published  by  the  Folk-Lore  Society),  a soldier 
is  presented,  by  a little  old  woman,  with  a cloak  which 
rendered  the  wearer  invisible.  Caps  and  coats  having 
the  same  property  are  among  the  treasures  which  the 
conquered  ogres  lay  before  the  hero  Little  Peachling, 
in  Mr  Mitford’s  ‘ Tales  of  Old  Japan.’  In  the  German 
story  of  Heads  Off!  Heinel,  the  hero,  in  the  course 
of  his  adventures, ''  came  to  a hill  where  three  giants 
were  sharing  their  fathers  goods;  and  as  they  saw 
him  pass,  they  cried  out  and  said,  ' Little  men  have 
sharp  wits ; he  shall  part  the  goods  between  us.’  [In 
fairy  tales  giants  are  always  foolish.]  Now  there  was 
a sword  that  cut  off  an  enemy’s  head  whenever  the 
wearer  said, ' Heads  Off ! ’ a cloak  that  made  the  wearer 
invisible,  or  gave  him  any  form  he  pleased ; and  a pair 
of  boots  that  carried  the  owner  wherever  he  wished  to 
go.  Heinel  said  they  must  first  let  him  try  these 
wonderful  things,  that  he  might  know  how  to  set  a 
value  upon  each  of  them.  So  they  gave  him  the  cloak, 
and  he  wished  himself  a fly,  and  in  a moment  he  was 
a fly.  ‘ The  cloak  is  well  enough,’  said  he ; ‘ now  give 
me  the  sword.’  ' No,’  said  they,  ‘ not  unless  you  pro- 
mise not  to  say,  ''  Heads  Off ! ” for  if  you  do  we  are  all 
dead  men.’  Then  they  gave  it  him,  charging  him  to 
try  it  only  on  a tree.  He  next  asked  for  the  boots ; 
and  the  moment  he  had  all  three  in  his  power,  he 
wished  himself  at  the  Golden  Mountain,  and  there  he 
was  at  once.  So  the  giants  were  left  behind  with  no 
goods  to  share  or  quarrel  about.”  And  in  the  Norse 
story  of  the  Three  Princesses  of  Whiteland,  the  wan- 


INVISIBLE  CAPS  AND  CLOAKS,  ETC. 


79 


dering  king  conies  upon  three  brothers  on  a moor,  who 
were  fighting  for  the  possession  of  a hat,  a cloak,  and 
a pair  of  boots,  which  enabled  the  wearer  to  become 
invisible  and  to  go  wherever  he  pleased.  “ Why  do 
you  stand  here,’’  said  the  king,  ''  fighting  for  ever  and 
a day  ? Just  let  me  try  these  things,  and  I’ll  give 
judgment  whose  they  shall  be.”  This  they  were  very 
willing  to  do ; but  as  soon  as  he  had  got  the  hat,  cloak, 
and  boots,  he  said,  ''  When  we  meet  next  time,  I’ll  tell 
you  my  judgment.”  And  with  these  words  he  wished 
himself  away. 

This  incident — which,  as  we  shall  presently  see,  is 
world- wide — also  occurs  in  the  Italian  popular  tale  of 
Lion  Bruno,  which  is  of  modern  Greek  extraction. 
The  hero  finds  three  robbers  quarrelling  in  a wood, 
and  is  chosen  to  be  their  arbiter.  They  had  stolen 
three  things  of  great  value,  and  could  not  agree  about 
the  division  of  them.  These  were : a pair  of  boots 
which  had  this  virtue,  that  whoever  put  them  on 
could  run  a mile  faster  than  the  wind ; a purse  which, 
by  saying, ''  Open  and  shut,”  yielded  a hundred  ducats ; 
and  a cloak,  which  whoever  put  on  saw  and  w^as  not 
seen.  The  hero  tries  all  three,  and  by  aid  of  the  boots 
gets  safely  off,  leaving  the  robbers  to  quarrel  among 
themselves,  w^hile  he  continues  his  journey.  — In  a 
Breton  version,  published  in  the  first  volume  of 
'Melusine,’  entitled,  'Woleur  avise,”  the  magical 
articles  are:  A cloak  which,  being  put  on,  trans- 
ported the  owner  to  any  place  he  desired  to  reach ; 
a hat  that  conferred  invisibility  on  the  wearer;  and 


80 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


gaiters  that  gave  the  power  of  walking  as  fast  as  the 
wind.^ 

So,  too,  in  the  Persian  romance  entitled  ' Bahar-i- 
Danish,’  or  Spring  of  Knowledge  (which  is,  all  but 
the  frame,  avowedly  derived  from  Indian  sources),  two 
brothers  dispute  about  an  old  fakir’s  cloak,  which  pro- 
duced, when  required,  any  quantity  of  rich  clothes ; a 
satchel,  from  which  issued  at  will  diamonds,  pearls, 
and  other  precious  gems ; a kalender’s  bowl,  which 
became  full  to  overflowing  with  all  sorts  of  delicious 
viands  and  liquors ; and  a pair  of  wooden  clogs,  which 
transported  the  wearer  from  one  end  of  the  world  to 


^ Some  Italian  Folk-Tales,”  by  H.  C.  Coote,  in  ‘ The  Folk-Lore 
Record,’  vol.  i.  p.  211. — On  the  close  affinity  between  the  French  and 
Italian  popular  mythologies,  Coote  remarks  : The  same  tales  which 
have  been  told  by  Celtic  crones  in  sequestered  and  misty  Basse  Bre- 
tagne, have  been  recounted  in  a more  graceful  tongue  and  under  a 
better  sky  in  sunny  Tuscany,  in  the  old  Neapolitan  kingdom,  and 
elsewhere  in  the  [Italian]  peninsula,  as  familiar  household  words. 
No  communication  between  the  two  countries  can  be  reasonably  sup- 
posed, since  the  disruption  of  the  Western  Empire.  The  simul- 
taneous appearance  of  the  tales  in  both  countries,  thus  deprived  of 
close  intercourse,  disposes  of  the  Celtic  ascription.  Being  found  in  a 
non-Celtic  country  as  well  as  in  a Celtic  one,  the  common  origin  of 
the  fictions  cannot  be  Celtic  merely.  It  should  rather  be  sought  in 
the  free  and  unrestricted  means  of  communication  which  existed 
between  them  when  they  were  both  parts  of  the  same  empire.” — 
Ibid.,  pp.  212,  213. 

A most  remarkable  reci'pe  for  making  shoes  of  swiftness  is  found 
in  an  Icelandic  story  ; “ The  giant  told  her  that  Hermddr  was  in  a 
certain  desert  island,  which  he  named  to  her  ; but  she  could  not  get 
thither  unless  she  Jiayed  the  soles  of  her  feet  and  made  shoes  for  herself 
out  of  the  skin;  and  these  shoes,  when  made,  would  be  of  such  a 
nature  that  they  would  take  her  through  the  air,  or  over  the  water, 
as  she  liked.” — 'Icelandic  Legends,’ translated  by  Powell  and  Mag- 
nusson.  Second  Series,  p.  397. 


INVISIBLE  CAPS  AND  CLOAKS,  ETC. 


81 


the  other  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye.  The  hero  is 
appointed  arbiter,  and  shoots  two  arrows  in  dif- 
ferent directions,  which  the  disputants  are  to  fetch 
him  back,  and  he  who  returns  first  is  to  have  the 
treasures,  with  which  he  decamps  while  they  are  run- 
ning in  search  of  the  arrows.  The  same  incident 
occurs  in  the  Arabian  tale  of  Hasan  of  Basra,  which 
presents  several  points  of  resemblance  to  the  charming 
Persian  romance  of  King  Bahram  Ghiir  and  the  fairy 
Husn  Bami.  In  the  latter  the  royal  hero  receives 
from  the  lord  of  the  second  Kaf  the  magical  cap  of 
Solomon,  which  enabled  the  wearer  to  see  whom  he 
pleased,  but  they  could  not  see  him ; from  the  lord  of 
the  third  Kaf  he  obtained  the  staff  of  Solomon,  which 
caused  any  door  to  fly  open,  no  matter  how  strong  it 
might  be,  and  even  if  guarded  by  talismans  and  en- 
chantments; and  from  the  lord  of  the  fourth  Kaf, 
Solomon’s  slipper,  wrought  with  threads  of  gold,  by 
which  one  might  travel  a journey  of  a hundred  years 
without  being  weary,  and  the  distance  traversed  would 
seem  but  a hundred  steps.^ 


^ Muhammedans,  like  Christians  before  Copernicus,  conceived  the 
earth  to  be  a vast  plane  of  circular  form,  surrounded  by  a mountain 
of  immense  altitude,  called  by  the  Arabs  Kaf,  and  the  Arabian  lexi- 
cographers describe  it  as  being  composed  of  green  emerald.  In  the 
‘ Borham-i  Kati,’  a valuable  Persian  dictionary,  we  have  the  following 
description  of  it : “ Kdif,  the  name  of  the  famous  mountain  which 
surrounds  the  four  quarters  of  the  earth.  They  say  that  its  altitude 
is  five  hundred  parasangs  [nearly  two  thousand  English  miles  !],  and 
for  the  most  part  the  sea  washes  the  base  of  it.” — Duncan  Forbes. 
K^f  was  supposed  to  be  the  abode  of  genii,  peris,  and  divs,  or  giants — 
the  mysterious  region  of  enchantments.  In  Muslim  legends,  Solomon, 

VOL.  I. 


F 


82 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


An  invisible  cap  and  boots  of  swiftness  also  fig- 
ure prominently  in  the  Kalmuk  collection  of  tales, 
entitled  ‘ Siddhf  Kur,’  an  English  version  of  which, 
based  upon  Bergmann’s  German  translation,  was  pub- 
lished many  years  ago  by  W.  J.  Thoms  in  his  ‘ Lays 
and  Legends  of  many  Nations,’  a work  which  was 
never  completed,  and  the  fasciculi  that  were  printed 
are  now  become  very  scarce:^ 

“ The  Son  of  the  Khan  and  his  companion  travelled 
along  a river  and  arrived  in  a wood,  where  they  found 
a number  of  children  quarrelling  one  with  another. 
' Wherefore,’  inquired  they,  ' do  you  thus  dispute  ? ’ 
'We  have  found  a cap  in  this  wood,’  said  the  children, 
' and  every  one  desires  to  possess  it.’  ' Of  what  use  is 
this  cap  ? ’ ' The  cap  has  this  wonderful  property, 

that  whosoever  places  it  on  his  head  can  be  neither 
seen  by  demons  nor  men.’  'Now,  go  all  of  you  to 
the  end  of  the  forest  and  run  hither,  and  I will  in 
the  meanwhile  keep  the  cap,  and  give  it  to  the  first 
of  you  who  reaches  me.’  Thus  spake  the  Son  of  the 
Khan,  and  the  children  ran ; but  they  found  not  the 

the  great  Hebrew  king,  is  represented  as  master  of  all  magic  arts,  all 
the  genii  being  under  his  control. 

^ Siddhi  Kur  signifies  a dead  body  endowed  with  supernatural 
powers,  or  a corpse  into  which  a vampire  has  entered.  These  Re- 
lations of  Siddhi  Kur  are  the  Mongolian  form  of  the  ancient  Indian 
work,  ‘ Vetdlapanchavinsati  ’ — Twenty-five  (Tales)  of  a Vetdla,  or 
demon.  The  first  part  of  a book,  published  a few  years  ago  under  the 
title  of  ‘ Sagas  from  the  Far  East,’  by  Miss  M.  H.  Busk,  consists  of  the 
Tales  of  Siddhi  Kur,  based,  it  is  said,  upon  Professor  Jiilg’s  German 
translation;  the  second  part,  entitled  Ardshi  Bordshi  (Rdjfi  Bhoja), 
is  the  Mongolian  form  of  another  old  Indian  collection,  ‘Sinhfisana 
Dwatrinsati,’  or  Thirty-two  (Tales)  of  a Throne. 


INVISIBLE  CAPS  AND  CLOAKS,  ETC. 


83 


cap,  for  it  was  upon  the  head  of  his  companion. 
‘Even  now  it  was  here,’  said  they,  ‘and  now  it  is 
gone  ! ’ And  after  they  had  sought  for  it,  but  without 
finding  it,  they  went  away  weeping. 

“And  the  Son  of  the  Khan  and  his  companion 
travelled  onwards,  and  at  last  they  came  to  a forest 
where  they  found  a party  of  demons  quarrelling  one 
with  another,  and  they  said,  ‘Why  do  you  quarrel 
one  with  another  V ‘I  have  made  myself  master  of 
these  boots,’  exclaimed  each  of  them.  ‘ Of  what  use 
are  these  boots  ? ’ inquired  the  Son  of  the  Khan.  ‘ He 
who  wears  these  boots,’  replied  they,  ‘ is  conveyed  to 
any  country  wherein  he  wishes  himself.’  ‘ Now,’  said 
the  Son  of  the  Khan,  ‘ go  all  of  you  that  may,  and  he 
who  first  runs  hither  shall  have  the  boots.’  And  the 
demons  {chadkurs),  when  they  heard  these  words,  ran 
as  they  were  told ; but  the  Son  of  the  Khan  had  con- 
cealed the  boots  in  the  bosom  of  his  companion,  who 
had  the  cap  upon  his  head.  And  the  demons  saw  the 
boots  no  more;  they  sought  them  in  vain,  and  went 
their  way.” 

A much  older  version  is  found  in  the  great  collec- 
tion of  tales  and  apologues,  entitled  ‘ Katha  Sarit 
Sagara,’  or  Ocean  of  the  Eivers  of  Story,  composed 
in  Sanskrit  verse,  by  Somadeva,  of  Kashmir,  in  the 
eleventh  century,  after  a similar  work  entitled  ‘ Vrihat 
Katha,’  or  the  Great  Story  (of  which  no  copy  has 
hitherto  been  discovered),  written  by  Gunadhya,  in 
the  sixth  century  : ^ 

^ This  grand  work,  in  which  are  found  the  originals  of  many  of  the 


84 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


''  As  King  Putraka  wandered  about  [in  the  wilds  of 
Vindhya],  he  saw  two  heroes  engaged  heart  and  soul 
in  a wrestling-match,  and  he  asked  them  who  they 
were.  They  replied,  'We  are  two  sons  of  the  A sura 
Maya,^  and  his  wealth  belongs  to  us — this  vessel,  and 
this  stick,  and  these  shoes.  It  is  for  these  that  we  are 
fighting,  and  whichever  of  us  proves  the  mightier  is 
to  take  them.’  When  he  heard  this  speech  of  theirs, 
Putraka  said  with  a smile,  ' That  is  a fine  inheritance 
for  a man.’  Then  they  said,  ' By  putting  on  these 
shoes  one  gains  the  power  of  flying  through  the  air ; 
whatever  is  written  on  this  staff  turns  out  true ; and 
whatever  food  a man  wishes  to  have  in  this  vessel 
is  found  there  immediately.’  When  he  heard  this, 
Putraka  said,  ' What  is  the  use  of  fighting  ? Make 
this  agreement,  that  whoever  proves  the  best  man  in 
running,  shall  possess  these  treasures.’  Those  simple- 
tons said,  ' Agreed,’  and  set  off  to  run,  while  the  prince 
put  on  the  shoes  and  flew  up  into  the  air,  taking  with 
him  the  staff  and  the  vessel.” 

It  is  probable  that  this  incident  is  of  Buddhist 
origin,  since  it  is  found  in  the  ' Avadanas  ’ (No.  74), 
or,  Indian  Tales  and  Apologues,  translated  into 
French  from  the  Chinese,  by  Stanislas  Julien,  in 

tales  of  the  ‘Arabian  Nights,’  has  been  translated  by  Professor  C.  H. 
Tawney,  and  recently  published  at  Calcutta,  in  fourteen  fasciculi,  or 
two  large  volumes.  The  best  thanks  of  English  students  of  compara- 
tive folk-lore  are  due  to  Mr  Tawney  for  the  service  he  has  thus  ren- 
dered them  : his  notes,  giving  references  to  variants  of  the  tales,  are 
very  valuable  as  well  as  interesting. 

^ An  A sura  was  formerly  considered  as  a kind  of  deity,  but  latterly 
as  a species  of  demon.  The  term  Maya  signifies  “delusion.” 


INVISIBLE  CAPS  AND  CLOAKS,  ETC. 


85 


which,  however,  two  Pisachas  have  each  a magic 
coffer,  staff,  and  shoe.  “These  two  demons  were 
always  quarrelling,  each  wishing  to  have  all  those 
six  things  for  himself.  They  passed  whole  days  fight- 
ing with  each  other,  without  being  able  to  agree.  A 
man,  who  had  witnessed  this  obstinate  contention, 
asked  them,  ' What  is  there  so  rare  in  a coffer,  a 
staff,  and  a shoe  that  you  should  fight  so  bitterly 
about  them  ? ’ The  demons  answered,  ' From  this  cof- 
fer we  can  take  clothes,  liquors,  food — in  short,  all 
sorts  of  things  needful  for  life  and  comfort.  When 
we  hold  this  staff,  our  enemies  humbly  yield  to  us, 
and  no  one  dare  withstand  us.  When  we  put  on 
this  shoe,  we  can  walk  as  if  we  were  flying,  without 
encountering  any  obstacle.’  On  hearing  this,  the  man 
said  to  them,  ' Go  a little  way  off ; I am  about  to 
make  a fair  division.’  At  these  words  both  the 
demons  went  aside.  That  man  took  the  two  coffers, 
the  two  staffs,  and  the  two  shoes,  and  made  off  with 
them.  The  two  demons  were  dumfoundered  when 
they  saw  that  there  no  longer  remained  anything  for 
them.  Then  said  that  man  to  the  demons,  'I  have 
taken  possession  of  everything,  which  leaves  you  both 
in  the  same  plight,  and  I have  removed  from  you  all 
cause  of  jealousy  and  contention.’  ” The  two  Pisachas 
each  possessing  similar  treasures  seems  a modification 
by  the  Chinese  translator,  but  for  which  this  might  be 
considered  as  nearer  the  original  form  of  the  story. 

The  Mongolians  have  a curious  legend  of  the  origin 


86 


POPULAE  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


of  the  Chinese  nation,  which  is  based  upon  the  same 
incident  of  the  contest  for  possession  of  a magical 
treasure : 

There  was  once  a poor  Bande.  He  had  nothing  to 
drink  or  to  eat.  The  Bande  went  on  the  road  and 
met  two  men  quarrelling  over  a precious  stone  as  big 
as  a sheep’s  eye.  Bande  said  to  them  that  they  should 
hand  him  the  stone,  and  that  he  should  run  with  it, 
and  whoever  first  caught  him  should  be  given  the 
stone.  They  prepared  to  race ; then  Bande  swallowed 
the  stone  and  disappeared.  He  came  to  the  territory 
of  a certain  Khan.  In  a poor  tent  lived  an  old  man 
and  an  old  woman ; he  lived  with  them ; the  old  man 
adopted  him  as  a son  to  his  house.  Bande  spat  and 
vomited  gold.  The  old  man  took  the  gold  to  the  Khan, 
to  ask  him  for  his  daughter  for  wife  to  Bande.  The 
Khan  wished  to  see  Bande  himself  with  his  own  eyes. 
Bande  vomited  out  some  gold  before  the  face  of  the 
Khan.  The  daughter  of  the  Khan  ordered  him  to  be 
bound  with  a horse-girth,  and  giving  him  salt  water, 
flogged  him  with  a whip,  and  out  flew  the  stone  from 
him.  The  Khan’s  daughter  seized  the  stone  and  swal- 
lowed it.  Bande  returned  to  his  old  man,  and  said 
that  he  had  lost  the  power  of  producing  gold.  ''  What 
are  we  to  do  now  ? ” says  the  old  man.  ''  Make  an 
ass’s  saddle  and  bridle,”  said  Bande.  When  the  things 
were  prepared,  Bande  went  to  a tree  and  sat  down. 
At  that  time  the  Khan’s  daughter,  with  twenty  virgins, 
went  out  to  play  with  the  white  tree.  Then  Bande 
began  to  read  a writing  which  had  been  read  out  to 


INVISIBLE  CAPS  AND  CLOAKS,  ETC. 


87 


him  in  his  sleep,  when  he  in  the  time  of  his  poverty 
slept  in  the  road  under  the  tree.  By  this  reading  the 
Khan’s  daughter,  who  was  pregnant  because  she  had 
swallowed  the  precious  stone,  was  changed  into  a she- 
ass.  Then  the  other  maidens,  seeing  only  the  she-ass, 
and  not  seeing  the  Khan’s  daughter,  were  frightened ; 
but  Bande  saddled  the  ass  and  rode  off.  He  rode  for 
a month ; then  the  ass  was  wearied  out,  and  could  go 
no  farther.  Bande  left  her,  and  proceeded  on  foot  to  a 
certain  town,  where  he  became  a lhama  \i.e.,  Buddhist 
priest].  The  ass  which  he  left  behind  gave  birth  to 
two  boys — one  good,  the  other  evil.  The  following 
generations  were  all  likewise  twins.  They  all  became 
rich ; had  much  gold,  silver,  cloth,  tea,  etc.  From  them 
came  the  Chinese  nation.^ 

In  Steele  and  Temple’s  ‘ Wide-Awake  Stories  ’ from 
the  Panjab  and  Kashmir  (tale  of  the  King  and  hi& 
Seven  Sons)  there  are  four  magical  treasures : a wallet 
with  two  pockets,  one  of  which  will  produce  anything 
desired  by  the  person  who  smells  at  it,  except  that  it 
cannot  make  a man — the  other  pocket  can  even  make 
a man ; a staff,  which  can  bring  a dead  man  struck 
with  it  to  life  again  three  times ; a brass  pot,  if  pro- 
perly cleansed,  will  give  the  person  who  cleanses  it 
the  thirty-six  kinds  of  sumptuous  food;  and  a pair 
of  sandals,  which  convey  the  wearer  wheresoever  he 
pleases. 


^ ^ Folk-Lore  Journal,’  1886,  vol.  iv.  pp.  23,  24. 


88 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


A Hindustani  version,  in  Miss  Stokes’s  'Indian 
Fairy  Tales,’  tells  how  four  fakirs  disputed  with  each 
other  for  the  possession  of  four  things  left  them  by 
their  late  spiritual  teacher,  namely : a bed  that  carried 
whoever  sat  on  it  anywhere  he  wished;  a bag  that 
gave  the  owner  of  it  whatever  he  wanted — jewels, 
food,  or  clothes ; a stone  bowl  that  gave  as  much 
water  as  was  required,  no  matter  how  far  one  might 
be  from  any  tank ; and  a stick  and  rope  to  which  the 
owner  had  simply  to  say,  " Stick,  stick ! beat  as  many 
men  and  soldiers  as  are  here,”  and  the  stick  would 
beat  them,  and  the  rope  would  tie  them  up.  The  hero 
of  the  story,  of  course,  outwits  the  four  foolish  fakirs, 
and  obtains  possession  of  the  wonderful  bed,  bag,  bowl, 
and  stick. — In  the  Eev.  Lai  Behari  Day’s  'Folk  Tales 
of  Bengal,’  an  indigent  Brahman  received  from  Durga, 
the  consort  of  Siva,  a magic  pipkin,  from  which  flowed 
the  most  delicious  sweetmeats ; and  when  it  was  stolen 
from  him,  Durga  gives  him  another  pipkin,  out  of 
which  issue  flerce  demons,  who  compel  the  thief  to 
restore  what  he  had  stolen.  A similar  incident  is 
found  in  Miss  Frere’s  ' Old  Deccan  Days ; or,  Indian 
Fairy  Legends.’ 

The  magic  stick  flgures  also  to  the  same  purpose  in 
the  Horse  tale  of  the  Lad  who  went  to  the  North  Wind, 
some  of  the  incidents  of  which  closely  resemble  those  of 
Miss  Stokes’s  Hindu  version.  The  North  Wind  having 
caught  the  Lad’s  meal,  the  hero  immediately  goes  to 
him  and  demands  it  back.  This  the  North  Wind 


INVISIBLE  CAPS  AND  CLOAKS,  ETC. 


89 


cannot  do,  but  he  gives  the  Lad  in  place  of  his  meal 
a cloth,  which  provided  him  with  everything  he  should 
want,  when  he  said,  Cloth  ! cloth  1 spread  yourself 
out  and  serve  up  all  kinds  of  good  dishes.”  This  is 
stolen  from  him,  so  he  goes  back  to  the  North  Wind, 
who  gives  him  a ram,  which  coined  golden  ducats  as 
soon  as  he  said  to  it,  ''  Earn  1 ram  1 make  money.”  ^ 
This  also  is  stolen  from  him ; so  he  goes  back  again  to 
the  North  Wind,  and  gets  a stick,  which  belaboured 
any  one  if  the  owner  said,  ''  Stick  ! stick  ! lay  on  ; ” and 
by  means  of  this  wonderful  stick  he  recovers  his 
cloth  and  his  ram.^ 

r' 

The  same  story  as  this  last  is — miitatis  mutandis — 
current  among  the  people  of  Italy:  A man  named 
Geppone  {i.e.,  Joe)  had  a farm  on  the  top  of  a hill, 
which  was  so  buffeted  by  the  North  Wind  that  he  could 
raise  nothing.  At  last  he  goes  to  the  North  Wind  and 
makes  his  complaint,  and  the  North  Wind  gives  him, 
by  way  of  compensation,  a box,  which  he  has  only  to 
tap,  at  the  same  time  calling  out,  ''  Bring  wine,  bread, 
and  meat,”  when  forthwith  all  sorts  of  eatables  and 
drinkables  are  spread  before  him.  He  takes  the  box 
home,  and  his  wife  and  children  get  a good  dinner. 
Joe  warns  his  wife  to  say  nothing  about  his  treasure 
to  the  prior,  else  he  would  want  to  take  it  for  his  own 

^ Stories  of  Gold-producing  Animals  will  be  found  compared  in 
the  following  paper. 

2 Dasent’s  ‘ Popular  Tales  from  the  Norse.’  Second  edition,  p.  263. 
A precisely  similar  story,  under  the  title  of  Jack’s  Luck ; or,  the 
Ass,  the  Table,  and  the  Stick,”  is  told  in  ‘English  Fairy  Tales  from 
the  North  Country,’  by  Dr  A.  C.  Fryer. 


90 


POPULAK  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


use.  But  she  does  tell  the  prior,  who  obtains  the  box, 
on  promising  to  provide  Joe  with  corn,  wine,  etc.  The 
prior,  however,  does  not  keep  his  promise,  so  poor  Joe 
goes  again  to  the  North  Wind,  acquaints  him  of  how 
the  prior  had  defrauded  him,  and  receives  this  time  a 
golden  box.  On  his  way  home  J oe  taps  the  box  and 
calls  out  ''  Provide,”  upon  which  out  jumps  a great  big 
man  with  a stick  in  his  hand,  and  belabours  him 
within  an  inch  of  his  life.  J oe  shuts  up  the  box  and 
resumes  his  journey.  Having  reached  home,  he  was 
eagerly  asked  what  he  had  got  this  time  from  the 
North  Wind,  to  which  he  replied  by  producing  the 
golden  box,  and  calling  out  Provide,”  when  the  big 
man  came  out  of  it,  and  thrashed  J oe’s  wife  and  chil- 
dren till  they  cried  for  mercy.  Joe  then  shuts  the 
box,  and  bids  his  wife  go  to  the  prior  and  tell  him 
that  he  has  another  box  more  beautiful  than  the  first, 
which  provides  most  sumptuous  dinners.  The  prior 
is  delighted  to  hear  this  news,  and  desires  her  to  send 
her  husband  with  the  new  box  to  him  at  once.  Joe 
sets  off  accordingly ; shows  his  treasure  to  the  prior, 
who  offers  him  the  old  box  in  exchange  for  it,  which 
Joe  accepts,  at  the  same  time  cautioning  the  prior  not 
to  open  the  golden  box  until  people  were  very  hungry. 

That  will  do,”  responded  the  prior ; ''  I shall  have  the 
titular  and  many  clergymen  to  dinner,  and  I won’t 
open  the  box  before  noontide.”  The  morning  comes  ; 
all  the  priests  say  mass,  and  afterwards  some  of  them 
walk  round  about  the  kitchen.  ''To-day,”  they  say, 
" the  prior  surely  does  not  mean  to  give  us  any  dinner. 


INVISIBLE  CAPS  AND  CLOAKS,  ETC. 


91 


The  fire  is  out,  and  there  is  nothing  prepared.”  But 
the  others,  who  had  seen  the  effects  of  the  first  box, 
answered,  You  will  soon  see : when  dinner  - time 
comes  he  opens  a box,  and  makes  all  sorts  of  viands 
appear.”  When  the  dinner-hour  arrived,  the  prior  told 
all  the  priests  to  take  their  places,  and  they  anxiously 
waited  to  see  the  miracle  of  the  box.  So  the  box  is 
opened,  and  six  men  armed  with  sticks  jump  out,  and 
belabour  the  whole  company  right  and  left'.  The  box 
falls  from  the  prior’s  hand,  still  open;  but  Joe,  who  is 
outside,  picks  it  up  and  shuts  it.  He  ever  after  re- 
tained both  boxes,  and  never  lent  them  to  anybody, 
and  became  a great  lord.^ 

The  17th  of  Leger’s  collection  of  Slav  Tales  furnishes 
another  interesting  variant  of  the  Horse  story:  A 
countryman  had  three  sons,  the  youngest  of  whom 
was  (as  usual  in  fairy  tales)  considered  as  a block- 
head. The  eldest  son  hires  himself  to  a farmer  for  a 
year,  and  receives  as  wages  a snow^-white  sheep,  from 
whose  fleece  a shower  of  gold  fell  whenever  one  said, 
''  Sheep,  help  me.”  On  his  way  home  he  tries  his 
sheep  in  a wood,  and  obtains  abundance  of  gold.  He 
puts  up  at  an  inn,  and  tells  the  landlady  to  take  care 
of  his  sheep,  and  allow  no  one  to  say  to  it,  Sheep, 
help  me.”  But  during  the  night  she  goes  to  the  sheep, 
and  having  said  these  words,  gets  a shower  of  gold 
from  its  fleece.  She  then  takes  it  away,  and  puts 

1 “Some  Italian  Folk-Tales,”  by  H.  C.  Coote,  in  ‘The  Folk-Lore 
Record,’  vol.  i.  pp.  204-206. 


92 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


another  sheep  in  its  place.  In  the  morning  the  youth 
goes  home  with  this  sheep,  and  in  attempting  to  ex- 
hibit its  gold-giving  nature  utterly  fails,  of  course,  and 
being  laughed  at  by  his  friends,  he  beats  the  spurious 
sheep  to  death.  The  second  son  next  goes  and  serves 
the  same  farmer  for  a year,  and  receives  as  his  wages 
a napkin,  to  which  one  had  only  to  say,  “ Napkin, 
serve  me,’'  and  instantly  it  was  covered  with  a 
sumptuous  feast.  He  puts  up  at  the  same  inn,  and 
is  cheated  of  his  napkin,  as  his  brother  was  of  his 
sheep,  and  is  ridiculed  at  home.  Then  the  youngest 
son,  whom  everybody  despised  as  a noodle,  serves  the 
same  man,  and  at  the  year’s  end,  on  relating  to  him 
the  misadventures  of  his  two  brothers,  and  expressing 
his  wish  to  recover  the  sheep  and  the  napkin,  he  gets 
from  the  farmer  a stick,  which  when  addressed,  ''  Up, 
stick  ! down  with  the  fellow  ! — nab  him,  slap  him  ! ” 
hits  all  round  until  it  is  recalled.  He  takes  up  his 
lodging  at  the  inn,  and  gives  the  landlady  the  stick  to 
take  care  of  for  him  till  the  morning,  warning  her  not 
to  allow  any  one  to  say,  ''  Stick ! down  with  him  ! ” 
But  she  determines  to  test  the  qualities  of  the  stick  as 
she  had  done  those  of  the  other  things,  and  so  at  night 
she  says  to  it,  ''  Stick,  stick,  lay  on  ! ” etc. ; whereupon 
the  stick  bangs  her  right  and  left  till  her  yells  and 
screams  awoke  the  youth,  who  came  to  her  rescue, 
but  would  not  order  the  stick  to  cease  beating  her 
until  she  promised  to  restore  the  sheep  and  the  napkin.^ 

^ ' Contes  Populaires  Slaves.’  Recueillis  et  traduits  par  L.  Leger. 
Paris:  1882. 


INVISIBLE  CAPS  AND  CLOAKS,  ETC. 


93 


A French  version,  ''Jean  a la  Tige  d’Haricot,”  cur- 
rent in  Picardy,  has  the  same  incidents,  with  an  ass 
that  gave  money  whenever  one  said,  " Ass,  show  your 
talent ; ” a table  that  was  spread  with  all  sorts  of  eat- 
ables and  drinkables  when  one  cried,  " Table,  do  your 
duty;”  and  a kitchen  rolling-pin  that  compelled  the 
restoration  of  the  two  other  treasures,  which  had  been 
stolen  by  the  hostess.^ 

A variant  orally  current  among  the  common  people  of 
Eome,  possesses  peculiar  interest  from  the  resemblance 
which  the  first  part  bears  to  an  Indian  story  : The  two 
sons  of  a poor  man  while  in  the  woods  one  day  saw  a 
great  bird  alight  and  drop  an  egg,  which,  when  the 
bird  flew  away,  they  picked  up  and  discovered  some 
writing  on  the  shell.  As  they  could  not  read,  they 
took  the  egg  to  a farmer,  who  at  once  perceived  that 
the  inscription  signified,  "Who  eats  my  head  shall 
become  emperor ; who  eats  my  heart  shall  never  want 


^ ‘ Contes  Fran9ais.’  Eecueillis  par  E.  Henry  Carnoy.  Paris:  1885. 
See  also  a Tuscan  parallel,  p.  123  of  ‘ Italian  Popular  Tales,’  by  Prof. 
T.  F.  Crane.  London:  1885. — This  is  an  ingenious  “explanation” 
of  the  story  of  the  Ass,  Stick,  &c.,  by  one  of  our  solar-mythologists  : 
“ The  table  is  the  all-nourishing  cloud.  The  buck-goat  [ass,  or  ram] 
is  another  emblem  of  the  clouds,  and  the  gold  it  spits  is  the  golden 
light  of  the  sun  that  streams  through  the  fleecy  coverings  of  the  sky. 
The  demon  of  darkness  has  stolen  these  things  ; the  cloud  gives  no 
rain,  but  hangs  dusky  in  the  sky,  veiling  the  light  of  the  sun.  Then 
the  lightning-spear  [Le.,  the  Stick]  of  the  ancient  storm -god  Odin 
leaps  out  from  the  bag  that  concealed  it ; the  robber  falls,  the  rain 
patters  down,  the  sun  shines  once  more.” — ‘ Curiosities  of  Indo-Euro- 
pean Tradition  and  Folk-Lore.’  By  Walter  K.  Kelly.  Curiosities  ” 
indeed  ! 


94 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


for  money ; ’’  but  wishing  to  eat  both  the  head  and  the 
heart  himself,  he  told  the  youths  that  the  meaning  of 
the  writing  was,  “ Whosoever  eats  the  bird  shall  make 
a very  good  dinner.”  ''  To-morrow,  therefore,”  added 
he,  ''  do  you  provide  yourselves  with  a good  stick, 
watch  for  the  return  of  the  bird,  and  knock  her  down. 
Then  make  a fire  and  cook  the  bird,  and  I will  come 
myself  and  eat  it  along  with  you.”  The  bird  was 
accordingly  killed  next  day,  and  put  on  a fire  to  roast. 
It  happened  that  the  head  dropped  into  the  fire,  and 
the  younger  of  the  two  brothers,  thinking  it  too  much 
burnt  to  set  before  the  farmer,  took  and  ate  it ; and 
soon  after  the  heart  also  fell  into  the  fire,  and  the 
elder  brother  ate  it,  as  it  was  likewise  sadly  burnt. 
Wlien  the  farmer  came,  he  said  he  wished  to  have 
only  the  head  and  the  heart  of  the  bird,  and  great  was 
his  rage  on  learning  what  had  become  of  them.  On 
their  return  home  the  youths  informed  their  poor 
father  how  they  had  unintentionally  offended  the 
farmer,  at  which  he  was  much  concerned,  and  told 
them  there  was  no  help  for  it,  but  they  must  go  out 
into  the  world  and  seek  their  own  fortunes.  So  they 
left  the  parental  roof  and  set  out  on  their  travels.  At 
night  they  came  to  an  inn,  and  the  landlord  allowed 
them  to  sleep  on  some  straw  in  the  stable.  What  was 
the  astonishment  of  the  elder  brother  to  discover  a 
box  full  of  sequins  under  his  head  when  he  awoke  in 
the  morning.  Supposing  that  this  was  a device  of  the 
landlord  to  try  their  honesty,  the  youths  carried  the  box 
to  him,  saying  that  he  must  have  left  it  in  the  stable 


INVISIBLE  CAPS  AND  CLOAKS,  ETC. 


95 


inadvertently.  The  landlord,  in  his  turn  not  a little 
astonished,  took  the  box,  treated  them  to  a good  break- 
fast, and  gave  them  provisions  for  the  day,  after  which 
they  resumed  their  journey.  The  following  night  they 
slept  in  the  stable  of  another  inn,  and  in  the  morning 
again  the  elder  brother  found  a box  of  sequins  under 
his  head.  Believing  the  landlord  of  the  preceding 
night  had  thus  laid  another  trap  for  them,  the  brothers 
went  back  and  gave  him  this  second  box,  which  he 
very  willingly  accepted,  though  wondering  what  it  all 
meant.  On  the  third  night,  when  they  were  about  to 
lie  down  in  the  stable  of  another  inn,  the  youngest 
expressed  his  doubts  as  to  their  first  landlord  being  the 
real  owner  of  the  box  of  money,  and  he  resolved  to  sit 
up  and  watch  if  the  man  came  during  the  night.  But 
he  did  not  come,  and  in  the  morning  there  was  a third 
box  of  sequins  under  the  elder  brother’s  head,  so  they 
were  now  satisfied  that  the  treasure  was  intended  for 
themselves.  Continuing  their  journey,  they  reached 
a great  city,  the  emperor  of  which  had  just  died, 
and  the  inhabitants  were  at  strife  regarding  the  elec- 
tion of  his  successor.  The  younger  brother,  with  the 
box  of  treasure  on  his  shoulder,  happened  to  be  some- 
what in  advance  of  the  other,  and  the  guards  at  the 
city  gates  seized  him,  and  when  the  people  discovered 
the  glittering  contents  of  his  box,  they  unanimously 
chose  him  for  their  emperor. 

Meanwhile  the  elder  brother  entered  the  city  un- 
noticed, and  obtained  a night’s  lodging  in  the  house 
of  a woman  and  her  daughter.  The  box  of  sequins. 


96 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


which  he  found  as  usual  beneath  his  head,  when  he 
awoke  in  the  morning,  enabled  him  to  make  hand- 
some presents  to  the  woman  and  her  pretty  daughter. 
But  the  girl  wheedled  out  of  him  the  secret  of  his 
wealth — his  having  eaten  the  bird’s  heart — and  put 
an  emetic  into  his  wine  at  supper,  which  caused  him 
to  throw-up  the  money -giving  heart,  and  he  was  then 
ignominiously  turned  into  the  street  to  shift  as  best 
he  could.  The  poor  youth  wandered  aimlessly  till  he 
came  to  the  margin  of  a stream,  where  he  lay  down 
and  began  to  weep  and  bewail  his  sad  fate.  Presently 
three  fairies  appeared,  and  having  learned  his  story, 
gave  him  a sheep-skin  jacket,  the  pockets  of  which, 
they  told  him,  should  be  always  full  of  money.  Our 
hero  then  returned  to  the  house  of  the  fair  but  false 
demoiselle,  with  rich  presents  for  herself  and  her 
mother.  The  girl,  having  ascertained  the  new  source 
of  his  wealth,  caused  her  maid  to  make  a similar 
sheep -skin  jacket,  which  she  substituted  while  he 
slept,  and  in  the  morning  he  left  unsuspicious  of  the 
foul  trick  she  had  played  him.  He  soon  discovered 
it,  however,  and  seeking  the  stream  once  more,  the 
fairies  gave  him  a wand,  which,  when  struck  on  a 
table,  would  give  him  all  he  desired.  Of  course,  he 
returns  again  to  the  deceitful  demoiselle,  and  of  course 
she  steals  the  magic  rod  from  him,  and  sends  him 
about  his  business.  He  revisits  the  stream  and 
receives  from  the  beneficent  fairies  a wishing-ring, 
which  they  caution  him  to  guard  very  carefully,  since 
it  is  the  last  gift  in  their  power  to  bestow  on  him. 


INVISIBLE  CAPS  AND  CLOAKS,  ETC. 


97 


Going  back  to  the  house  of  the  demoiselle,  in  answer 
to  her  inquiries  he  tells  her  that  the  ring  on  his 
finger  is  a wishing-ring.  “ Then,”  says  she,  do  you 
wish  that  we  may  be  both  together  on  the  top  of 
yonder  mountain,  and  a sumptuous  feast  spread  out 
for  us.”  The  youth  willingly  complies,  and  in  an  in- 
stant they  are  there,  and  find  a grand  feast  spread  out 
for  them.  The  demoiselle  drugs  his  wine,  and  while 
he  is  asleep  steals  the  ring,  and  by  its  virtue  is  im- 
mediately back  in  her  own  house.  What  must  have 
been  the  feelings  of  the  poor  youth  when  he  awoke 
and  found  both  his  ring  and  the  treacherous  demoiselle 
gone  1 After  wandering  about  for  three  days  weeping, 
he  took  some  herbs  to  assuage  his  hunger,  when  lo ! 
he  was  at  once  transformed  into  a donkey,  with  panniers 
hung  over  his  sides.  But  he  still  preserved  his  in- 
telligence, and  before  beginning  to  descend  the  moun- 
tain, he  put  some  of  the  wonder-working  herbs  in  his 
panniers.  When  he  reached  the  foot,  he  plucked 
some  grass  that  grew  there,  and  behold ! he  was  re- 
stored to  his  own  proper  form.  Taking  a quantity  of 
this  grass  also,  he  entered  the  city,  and,  disguised  as  a 
street-hawker,  with  a basket  of  the  herbs  on  his  arm, 
he  went  under  the  window  of  the  false  demoiselle  and 
bawled  out,  “ Salad,  fine  salad  ! ” The  maid,  knowing 
her  mistress  was  very  fond  of  salad,  took  him  into 
the  house  and  introduced  him  to  the  young  lady,  who 
no  sooner  began  to  test  the  quality  of  the  herbs  than 
she  was  changed  into  the  form  of  a donkey.  Our 
hero  then  drove  her  through  the  city,  and  cudgelled 
VOL.  I.  G 


98 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


her  so  severely  that  a citizen  seized  him,  saying  that 
he  must  answer  for  his  cruelty  to  the  emperor.  Now 
when  he  was  brought,  with  the  donkey,  into  the  em- 
peror’s presence,  he  at  once  recognised,  in  the  person 
of  the  great  monarch,  his  younger  brother,  and  desired 
the  court  to  be  cleared  before  he  entered  into  any 
explanations,  which  being  done,  he  then  told  the  em- 
peror his  story,  and  the  brothers  fell  upon  each  other’s 
necks  and  wept  for  joy.  The  emperor  caused  the 
wicked  demoiselle  in  donkey-shape  to  return  to  her 
house  with  our  hero,  and  restore  all  the  treasures  she 
had  stolen  from  him,  after  which  she  was  given  some 
of  the  grass,  and  resumed  her  natural  forni.^ 

An  Indian  analogue  of  the  incident  of  the  eating  of 
the  bird’s  head  and  heart  in  this  last  story  is  found  in 
the  Manipuri  tale  of  the  two  princes  Turi  and  Basanta, 
who  in  the  course  of  their  wanderings  rest  for  the 
night  under  a tree  on  which  a pair  of  parrots  are 
perched,  and  Turi,  while  his  brother  sleeps,  hears  the 
birds  converse  together.  The  cock-parrot  calls  to  his 
wife,  and  asks  her  what  will  happen  to  the  man  who 
should  eat  her.  She  answers  that  at  first  he  will 
experience  great  distress,  and  afterwards  even  greater 
happiness.  The  cock  says  that  the  man  who  should 
eat  him  will  be  made  king.  Turi  kills  both  birds,  and 
roasts  them.  By-and-by  he  feels  very  sleepy,  and 
awaking  his  brother,  desires  him  to  keep  watch  for  a 

^ ‘ The  Folk-Lore  of  Rome.’  Collected  from  the  mouths  of  the 
People.  By  M.  H.  Busk.  London  : 1874.  Pp.  146-154. 


INVISIBLE  CAPS  AND  CLOAKS,  ETC. 


99 


short  time.  During  the  night  Basanta,  feeling  hungry, 
eats  the  hen-bird,  which  is  fated  to  bring  sorrow  upon 
him.  In  the  morning  Turi  eats  the  other  bird.  Search- 
ing for  water,  the  brothers  lose  sight  of  each  other. 
Turi  becomes  a king,  and  Basanta,  after  a series  of 
strange  vicissitudes,  is  reunited  to  his  brother.^ 

In  another  Eoman  popular  story,  an  aged  man  on 
his  deathbed  bequeaths  to  his  eldest  son  an  old  broken 
hat  without  a brim ; yet  such  was  its  virtue,  that  ''  if 
you  put  it  on,  you  can  go  in  to  dine  at  whatever  inn  you 
please,  or  sit  down  to  drink  at  what  wine-shop  yon 
please,  and  drink  what  you  like,  for  no  one  will  see  you 
when  you  have  it  on.”  To  his  second  son  he  gives  a 
purse,  ''in  which,  whenever  you  put  your  fingers  in, 
you  will  always  find  a scudo  there,  and  after  that 
another,  and  another,  and  as  many  as  ever  you  wish — 
there  will  always  be  one.”  To  his  youngest  son  he 
gives  a horn,  telling  him  that  whenever  he  wants  any- 
thing he  has  only  to  sound  it,  and  one  ^ will  come  and 
bring  whatever  he  wants — be  it  a dinner,  a suit  of 
clothes,  a palace,  or  even  an  army.  The  second  son — 
who,  strangely,  is  the  hero  of  this  tale — is  seen  by  a 
maid  from  a window,  and  invited  to  play  at  cards  with 
the  queen  her  mistress,  who  learns  from  him  the  secret 
of  his  wealth,  and  appropriates  the  magic  purse.  He 
borrows  in  succession  his  eldest  brother’s  magic  hat 

^ ^Indian  Antiquary,’  1875,  vol.  iv.  pp.  260-264. 

2 By  ‘‘one”  we  are  to  understand  that  the  genie,  or  ‘‘slave,”  of  the 
horn  is  meant. 


100 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


and  his  youngest  brother’s  magic  horn,  both  of  which 
the  greedy  and  unscrupulous  queen  also  contrives  to 
take  from  him.  After  this  he  went  about  disconsolate, 
and  coming  to  a fig-tree  he  plucked  and  ate  some  of 
its  fruit,  when  behold ! his  nose  assumed  an  enormous 
length ; but  by-and-by,  eating  some  cherries,  his  nose 
returned  to  its  natural  condition.  Taking  a quantity 
of  these  wonder-working  figs  and  cherries,  he  gave 
some  of  the  figs  to  the  queen  and  her  servants,  whose 
noses,  after  their  eating  the  fruit,  became  fearful  snouts 
— that  of  the  wicked  queen  was  no  less  than  twelve 
feet  long.  Then  he  went  near  the  palace  another  day 
and  cried,  ''Noses  reduced  in  size !”  So  he  was  taken 
within,  and,  to  convince  the  queen  of  his  skill  in  this 
branch  of  surgical  science,  he  reduced  the  noses  of  the 
domestics.  When  the  queen  saw  this,  she  desired  to 
have  her  own  nose  also  reduced,  but  remarked  to  him 
that  she  possessed  more  wonderful  things  than  his  cure 
for  long  noses;  and  so  saying,  she  showed  him  the 
magic  hat,  purse,  and  horn,  explaining  their  respective 
qualities,  upon  which  our  hero  clapped  the  hat  upon 
his  head,  and,  thus  becoming  invisible,  then  picked 
up  the  purse  and  the  horn  and  went  off — leaving  the 
wicked  queen  still  with  her  " twelve  feet  of  nose.”  ^ 

^ Miss  Busk’s  ‘ Folk-Lore  of  Rome,’  p.  129. — This  story  is  also  found 
in  Grimm’s  ‘ Kinder  und  Hausmarchen.’  The  incident  of  the  hero’s 
transformation  to  donkey-form,  by  eating  certain  herbs,  in  the  pre- 
ceding Italian  tale,  is  simply  a variant  of  the  ‘‘Nose”  in  this  story. 
In  the  46th  chapter  of  an  old  English  version  of  the  ‘ Gesta  Roman - 
orum,’  the  hero,  who  had  been  tricked  of  three  magic  treasures  by 
his  leman,  in  his  wanderings  ate  some  fruit  that  made  him  a leper, 
and  then  came  to  a river  the  water  of  which  healed  him  : returning 


INVISIBLE  CAPS  AND  CLOAKS,  ETC. 


101 


Still  worse  was  the  fate  of  the  avaricious  fellow  in 
the  14th  Tale  of  Siddhi  Kiir  ('  Sagas  from  the  Far 
East  ’)  : There  were  formerly  two  brothers,  of  whom 
the  younger  was  very  rich  and  very  avaricious ; the 
elder  was  exceedingly  poor.  One  day  the  rich  man  gave 
a grand  feast,  and  did  not  invite  his  brother ; so,  being 
reduced  to  absolute  want,  he  went  into  the  wilderness, 
intending  to  put  an  end  to  his  wretched  life.  There 
he  sees  a party  of  Dakinis  (male  and  female  evil 
genii)  assembled,  who  take  from  the  cleft  of  a rock 
a bag,  and  a hammer  with  which  they  beat  the  bag, 
when  lo ! there  issues  from  it  a plentiful  supply  of 
food  and  drink ; and  thumping  it  a second  time,  they 
get  from  it  silver  and  gold  trinkets.  After  feasting  to 
their  hearts’  content,  they  replace  the  sack  and  the 
hammer  and  disappear.  Then  the  poor  man  conies 
out  of  his  place  of  concealment  and  takes  away  these 
wonderful  things.  Of  course,  he  soon  becomes  very 
rich,  which  his  brother  observing,  he  inquires  the  cause 
of  his  sudden  prosperity,  and  is  told  the  whole  story. 
He  sets  off  at  once  to  the  spot  where  the  Dakinis  were 
seen  by  his  lucky  brother,  in  hopes  of  being  equally 
fortunate ; but  when  the  Dakinis  discover  him,  they 
call  out  one  to  another,  This  is  he  who  stole  our  sack 
and  hammer  1 Let  us  kill  him.”  In  the  end  they 
merely  draw  out  his  nose  till  it  is  four  ells  long,  and 
then  tie  nine  knots  on  it.  The  wretched  man  hides 
himself  till  it  is  dark,  when  he  creeps  home  and  fright- 

to  the  city,  he  found  the  damsel  leprous,  cured  her  with  some  of  the 
same  water,  and  got  back  his  treasures. 


102 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


ens  his  wife  by  his  appearance.  How  to  get  rid  of  his 
knotted  nose  perplexes  him,  till  at  length  he  sends  for 
his  brother,  tells  him  how  he  had  been  treated  by  the 
Dakinis,  and  promises  to  give  him  half  his  wealth  if 
he  will  cure  his  sore  affliction  by  means  of  his  magic 
hammer.  The  brother  consents,  and  at  each  stroke  of 
the  hammer  one  of  the  knots  disappears ; but  when 
eight  of  them  have  been  thus  removed,  the  wife  of  the 
avaricious  one,  thinking  to  save  the  money  they  had 
promised  for  the  cure,  seizes  the  hammer  and  runs 
with  it  into  an  inner  room,  where  afterwards,  attempt- 
ing to  do  away  the  ninth  knot  on  her  husband’s  nose, 
she  struck  him  such  a blow  with  the  hammer  that  he 
was  killed  outright. 

The  covetous  man  is  always  punished  in  fairy  tales. 
Another  instance  is  furnished  in  the  Irish  legend  of 
JMick  Purcell,  who  was  reduced  by  a succession  of 
bad  harvests  to  take  his  only  cow  to  market  for  sale. 
On  his  way  he  meets  with — or  is  overtaken  by — a 
strange -looking  little  grey  man,  who  gives  him  in 
exchange  for  his  cow  a bottle,  which,  the  little  man 
assures  him,  would  make  him  rich  in  a very  short 
time : all  he  had  to  do  was  to  go  home,  make  his 
wife  sweep  the  floor,  spread  a clean  cloth  over  the 
table ; then  set  the  bottle  on  the  ground,  saying  these 
words,  ''  Bottle  ! do  your  duty  ” — and  he  would  see 
the  end  of  it.  Mick  goes  home  accordingly,  and 
having  strictly  followed  the  little  man’s  instructions, 
he  had  no  sooner  said,  Bottle  ! do  your  duty,”  when 


INVISIBLE  CAPS  AND  CLOAKS,  ETC. 


103 


''  two  tiny  little  fellows  rose  like  light  from  the  bottle, 
and  in  an  instant  covered  the  table  with  dishes  and 
plates  of  gold  and  silver,  full  of  the  finest  victuals 
that  ever  were  seen,  and  when  all  was  done  went 
into  the  bottle  again.  . . . Next  day  Mick  went  to 
Cork  and  sold  his  plate,  and  bought  a horse  and  cart, 
and  began  to  show  that  he  was  making  money ; and 
they  did  all  they  could  to  keep  the  bottle  a secret : 
but  for  all  that,  their  landlord  found  it  out,  and  came 
to  Mick  one  day  and  asked  him  where  he  got  all  his 
money — sure  it  was  not  by  the  farm ; and  he  bothered 
him  so  much,  that  at  last  Mick  told  him  of  the  bottle. 
His  landlord  offered  him  a deal  of  money  for  it,  but 
Mick  would  not  give  it,  till  at  last  he  offered  to  give 
him  all  his  farm  for  ever.  So  Mick,  who  was  very 
rich,  thought  he’d  never  want  money,  and  gave  him 
the  bottle.  But  Mick  was  mistaken : he  and  his 
family  spent  money  as  if  there  was  no  end  of  it; 
and,  to  make  the  story  short,  they  became  poorer  and 
poorer,  till  at  last  they  had  nothing  left  but  one  cow ; 
and  Mick  once  more  drove  his  cow  before  him  to  sell 
her  at  Cork  fair,  hoping  to  meet  the  old  man  and  get 
another  bottle.”  Mick  does  meet  the  little  old  man 
again,  and  receives  another  bottle  from  him  in  ex- 
change for  his  cow.  Eeturning  home  in  great  glee, 
he  at  once  begins  to  try  the  virtue  of  the  bottle ; — the 
floor  is  swept,  the  table  covered  with  a nice  clean 
cloth,  and  then  Mick  sets  his  bottle  on  the  ground 
and  calls  out,  ''  Bottle  1 do  your  duty.”  In  a twink- 
ling, 'Hwo  great  stout  men  with  big  cudgels  issued 


104 


POPULAK  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


from  the  bottle  and  belaboured  poor  Mick  and  his 
wife  and  all  his  family,  till  they  lay  on  the  floor, 
when  in  they  went  again.”  As  soon  as  Mick  was 
recovered  from  the  effects  of  his  beating,  he  got  up, 
and  tucking  the  bottle  under  his  coat,  sets  off  to  the 
house  of  his  landlord.  ''Well,  what  do  you  want 
now?”  "Nothing,”  says  Mick,  "only  IVe  another 
bottle.”  " Oh  ho  ! is  it  as  good  as  the  first  ? ” "A 
great  deal  better,  as  I will  show  you,  before  these 
ladies  and  gentlemen.”  " Come  along  then,”  says  the 
landlord.  So  Mick  sets  it  on  the  floor,  saying, 
" Bottle ! do  your  duty,”  and  suddenly  the  landlord 
was  tumbled  on  the  floor ; ladies  and  gentlemen,  ser- 
vants and  all,  were  running  and  roaring  and  sprawl- 
ing and  kicking  and  shrieking.  Wine  - cups  and 
salvers  were  knocked  about  in  every  direction,  until 
the  landlord  called  out,  " Stop  these  two  devils, 
Mick  Purcell,  or  111  have  you  hanged.”  "Theyll 
never  stop,”  says  Mick,  " till  I get  my  own  bottle 
that  I see  up  there  on  the  top  of  that  shelf.”  " Give 
it  down  to  him,”  says  the  landlord — "give  it  down 
to  him  before  we  are  killed.”  Mick  put  his  bottle 
in  his  bosom ; in  jumped  the  two  men  into  the  other 
bottle,  and  he  carried  them  home.  After  this  Mick 
got  richer  than  ever,  and  his  son  married  his  landlord’s 
only  daughter.^ 

To  the  same  wide  cycle  of  folk-tales,  in  which  the 

1 ‘ Fairy  Legends  and  Traditions  of  the  South  of  Ireland.’  By  J. 
Crofton  Croker ; edited  by  Thomas  Wright : “ Legend  of  Bottle  Hill.” 


INVISIBLE  CAPS  AND  CLOAKS,  ETC. 


105 


virtuous  are  rewarded  and  the  greedy  and  avarici- 
ous are  justly  punished,  belongs  this  Polish  tale,  from 
M.  Leger’s  collection : An  old  man  begs  food  of  a 
woman  called  Blazkow^a,  who  refuses  him,  saying 
merely,  ''  God  help  you.”  He  then  applies  for  relief 
to  a charitable  woman  named  Janova,  who  takes  from 
her  children  two  buttered  slices  of  bread  which  she 
had  cut  for  them  and  gives  them  to  the  old  man,  say- 
ing, ''  May  God  give  you  something  better ; this  is  all 
I have  in  my  hut.”  The  beggar  replies,  ''May  God 
return  it  to  you,  kind  woman,  tenfold  ! May  you  ever 
have  clothing  for  your  children,  and  what  you  begin  to 
do  to-day  may  you  be  unable  to  finish  to-night.”  She 
thanks  him  for  his  good  wishes,  and  he  goes  off.  But 
she  has  no  food  for  her  children,  and  what  is  she  to 
do  ? She  had  lately  spun  some  flax,  of  which  the 
weaver  had  made  twenty  ells  of  cloth ; it  was  her  only 
wealth,  and  she  was  keeping  it  for  winter  clothing; 
but  now  she  was  compelled  to  sell  a portion  of  it  to  a 
Jew,  in  order  to  obtain  the  means  of  support  for  herself 
and  her  children.  So  she  begins  to  measure  the  cloth : 
ell  succeeds  ell,  until  she  had  measured  a hundred  and 
eight  ells  by  sunset,  and  still  she  had  not  come  to  the 
end.  Thousands  of  ells  passed  through  her  hands ; 
time  pressed ; it  is  too  late  now  to  go  to  the  Jew : she 
takes  a few  ells  to  her  neighbour,  the  greedy  woman, 
Blazkowa,  who  gives  her  but  a trifling  sum  of  money, 
which  she  took  to  feed  her  children.  Next  day  Janova 
goes  to  the  village  fair,  and  her  linen  was  found  to  be 
so  fine  that  she  had  a good  and  ready  sale,  and  re- 


106 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


turned  home  quite  wealthy.  Her  neighbour  Blaz- 
kowa  is  envious  of  her  good  luck,  and  invites  her  to 
her  house.  Over  a little  glass  ” she  learns  the  source 
of  J anova’s  wealth,  and  the  latter  promises  to  send  the 
old  beggar-man  to  Blazkowa,  should  he  come  back 
again.  A week  later  the  beggar  returns.  Janova 
entertains  him,  and  then  sends  him  to  Blazkowa.  As 
soon  as  she  saw  him  coming,  she  gave  her  children 
two  slices  of  bread-and-butter,  and  when  the  old  man 
entered  she  snatched  them  from  the  children  and  gave 
them  to  him.  “ May  God  reward  you,”  says  he  ; “ and 
what  you  now  do  may  you  go  on  doing  till  sunset.” 
She  had  got  some  linen  and  her  ell-measure  ready, 
when  her  children  crying  for  water  to  drink,  she  ran 
with  her  pitcher  to  the  well ; but  no  sooner  had  she 
returned  than  she  felt  compelled  to  go  again  for  another 
pitcherful,  and  so  she  kept  on  carrying  water  till 
sunset.^ 

An  exact  parallel  story  is  current  in  China : Once 
upon  a time  Fo  came  down  to  this  world  to  try  the 
hearts  of  men,  and  was  hospitably  received  by  a kind 
widow.  She  sat  up  all  night  to  make  him  a new  shirt, 
and  on  leaving  next  day  Fo  pronounced  this  blessing, 
''  May  God  reward  you  for  what  you  have  done  to  me, 
and  may  the  first  thing  that  you  begin  to  do  after  I 
leave  not  cease  till  the  sun  sets.”  Thoughtless  of  the 
meaning  of  his  words,  the  widow  began  to  measure  her 
cloth,  to  see  how  much  was  left,  and  she  measured  on 
till  sunset  before  coming  to  the  end  of  the  piece.  The 

1 ‘ Contes  Populaires  Slaves.’  Paris  ; 1 882. 


INVISIBLE  CAPS  AND  CLOAKS,  ETC. 


107 


room  was  full  of  linen,  and  she  had  become  a rich 
woman.  A miserly  neighbour,  hearing  of  this  good 
fortune,  placed  herself  at  her  door  in  the  hope  of  find- 
ing an  equally  profitable  deed  of  charity.  Fo  appears 
in  rags  as  before,  and  is  treated  by  this  woman  in  the 
same  way  as  the  other  had  done.  On  leaving  next 
morning  he  gave  her  a similar  blessing.  Her  pig  at 
that  moment  began  to  grunt,  and  she  thought  to  her- 
self, “ I shall  be  measuring  linen  and  unable  to  feed 
the  pig,  so  I had  better  give  him  some  water  before 
beginning/’  She  took  up  her  pail,  and  began  to  pour 
out  some  water,  but  soon  found  that  she  had  not  the 
power  of  stopping.  There  she  stood  and  poured  on  and 
on  till  sunset,  when  the  whole  village  was  inundated, 
and  she  had  to  endure  the  ill-will  of  all  her  neigh- 
bours.^ 

In  the  collection  of  Sicilian  popular  tales  by  Laura 
Gonzenbach,  we  find  a tablecloth,  to  which,  when  it 
is  spread  out,  one  has  only  to  say,  ''  Dear  little  table- 
cloth, give  macaroni,”  or  roast  meat,  and  it  supplies 
whatever  is  required ; a purse,  which  furnishes  as 
much  money  as  may  be  wanted ; and  a pipe,  which 
when  played  upon  compels  all  who  hear  it  to  dance — 
like  the  marvellous  pipe  of  the  Pied  Piper  of  Hamelin, 
and  the  magic  violin  of  French  and  German  fairy 
tales.^ 

^ ‘National  Review,’  1857,  vol.  v.  pp.  398,  399. — The  well-known 
Greek  legend  of  Philemon  and  Baucis  is  of  the  same  class : Hospi- 
tality Rewarded. 

^ In  the  romance  of  Huon  of  Bourdeaux,  Oberon,  king  of  the 


108 


POPULAK  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


Northern  folk-lore  is  peculiarly  rich  in  ingenious 
modifications  of  such  wonder-working  things.  In 
Powell  and  Magnusson’s  ' Legends  of  Iceland  ’ (second 
series),  Hans,  the  Carl’s  Son,  receives  from  a dwarf  a 
stone  which  was  of  such  a peculiar  nature  that,  when 
one  kept  it  in  the  palm  of  the  ha^d,  no  one  could  see 
the  holder  of  it ; next  he  gave^,  him  a sword,  saying, 
‘"It  will  cut,  and  it  can  be\made  so  small  that  you  can 
put  it  in  your  pocket,  but  it  will  grow  to  its  full  size 
when  you  like ; ” lastly,  the  dwarf  gave  him  a ship, 
which  he  could^  carry  in  his  pocket — ''  But  when  you 
like,”  said  the  dwarf,  you  can  have  it  as  large  as 
you  need,  eVen  as  large  as  seaworthy  vessels ; and  it 
is  one  of  its  powers  that  it  goes  with  equal  speed 
against  the  wind  and  with  it.” 

In  the  Norse  tale  of  the  Best  Wish  (Sir  G.  Dasent), 
three  brothers  are  each  bequeathed  the  accomplish- 
ment of  a wish:  the  two  elder  brothers  wish  that 
whenever  they  put  their  hands  in  their  pockets  they 
should  find  money  there — a reflection,  perhaps,  of  the 
legend  of  Midas.  The  youngest  wished  that  every 
woman  who  saw  him  should  fall  in  love  with  him, 
and  then  he  sets  out  on  his  travels.  An  innkeeper’s 
wife  becomes  enamoured  of  him,  and  presents  him 
with  a pair  of  scissors,  which  could  of  themselves  cut 

fairies,  presents  the  hero  with  a bugle,  one  of  whose  virtues  was  to 
inspire  whosoever  heard  it  with  such  extraordinary  mirth  that  they 
were  utterly  unable  to  repress  the  transports  it  occasioned.  A similar 
magic  pipe  forms  the  chief  subject  of  the  old  English  tale  of  ‘‘  The 
Frere  and  the  Boy,”  printed,  with  a preface  by  Thomas  Wright,  from 
a manuscript  preserved  in  Cambridge  University  Library. 


INVISIBLE  CAPS  AND  CLOAKS,  ETC. 


109 


out  of  the  air  the  loveliest  garments.  Another  hostess 
gives  him  a tablecloth,  which  covered  itself  with  the 
finest  kinds  of  food  the  moment  it  was  spread.  A 
third  gave  him  a tap,  from  which,  whenever  he  pleased, 
he  could  draw  the  best  liquors.  In  another  Norse  tale, 
Katie  Woodencloak  — which  presents  several  points 
of  resemblance  to  the  modern  Greek  story  of  Xylo- 
Marie — we  read  of  a wishing -hull,  in  whose  ear  is  a 
cloth,  which,  taken  and  spread  out,  furnishes  as  many 
dishes  as  may  be  desired.  There  can  be  little  doubt 
that  this  is  the  wishing-cow  of  Hindu  legend,  which 
plays  an  important  part  in  the  great  Indian  epic 
' Eamayana.’  In  other  Norse  tales  we  find  a blue  belt, 
which  gives  superhuman  strength  to  the  wearer,  and 
a wishing-ring. — It  was  by  means  of  an  invisible  ringi 
that  Angelica  escaped  the  embraces  of  Eogero,  in  Ari-1 
osto’s  ‘jDrlando  Furioso ' (xi.  6,  Eose’s  translation) : / 

Then  softly  to  her  mouth  the  hoop  conveys, 

And,  quicker  than  the  flash  which  cleaves  the  skies. 

From  hold  Kogero’s  sight  her  beauty  flies. 

As  disappears  the  sun  concealed  in  clouds. 

So,  too,  in  Berni’s  ' Orlando  Innamorato  ’ there  is  a 
ring,  which,  put  on  the  finger,  renders  enchantment 
of  no  effect,  and,  placed  between  the  lips,  confers  in- 
visibility.^ And  in  the  46th  chapter  of  the  Anglican 
" Gesta  Eomanorum  ’ we  are  told  how  a king  bequeathed 

^ According  to  Plato,  Gyges,  a shepherd  of  Lydia,  by  means  of  a 
ring  which  rendered  him  invisible,  introduced  himself  to  the  wife  of 
Candaules,  king  of  Lydia,  murdered  the  latter,  and  got  possession  of 
the  kingdom. 


no 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


to  his  youngest  son  a ring,  that  won  the  wearer  the 
love  of  all  men ; a brooch,  which  gave  him  whatever 
he  wished  for ; and  a cloth,  that  conveyed  whoever  sat 
upon  it  whithersoever  he  desired  to  go.^ 

The  youngest  of  a tailor’s  three  sons,  who  leave 
home  to  seek  their  fortunes,  in  the  German  fairy  tale 
(Grimm’s  collection),  finds  at  the  foot  of  a tree,  in  a 
great  forest,  a table  that  is  covered  with  dainties  the 
instant  the  desire  for  such  is  expressed.  This  he 
exchanges  with  a charcoal-burner  for  an  old  military 
knapsack,  which  has  the  quality,  if  knocked  upon  by 
the  hand,  of  causing  a corporal  and  six  soldiers  to 
appear,  ready  to  obey  any  orders.  Going  farther,  he 
summons  the  soldiers  by  means  of  the  knapsack,  and 
orders  them  to  bring  him  back  his  wishing-table  from 
the  charcoal-burner,  which  is  done  immediately.  He 
next  meets  with  another  charcoal-burner,  who  gives 
him  in  exchange  for  his  table  a hat,  which  has  a very 
peculiar  quality : if  the  wearer  lift  it  up  and  turn  it 
round  above  his  head,  a number  of  shots  are  fired,  like 
a discharge  of  artillery,  so  that  no  enemy  dare  ap- 
proach ; and  by  means  of  this  hat  he  again  recovers 
his  table,  which  once  more  he  exchanges  with  a third 
charcoal-burner  for  a horn,  which,  when  sounded  near 

1 Similar  to  the  hed  in  the  Indian  story  referred  to  on  p.  88,  and 
to  the  carpet  in  the  Arabian  tale  of  Prince  Ahmed  and  the  Peri  Banu. 
Muslim  writers  seem  to  have  borrowed  the  idea  of  such  a wondrous 
conveyance  from  the  rabbinical  legend  of  Solomon’s  carpet,  on  which 
he  and  his  vast  army  were  transported  through  the  air  great  distances 
in  a few  minutes  ; and  the  rabbins  may  have  adapted  this  from 
Indian  fictions. 


INVISIBLE  CAPS  AND  CLOAKS,  ETC. 


Ill 


a town  or  village,  causes  fortresses,  walls,  houses,  and 
all  they  contain,  to  be  thrown  down  in  one  heap  of 
confusion  and  ruin. 

In  a Bohemian  variant  (No.  2 of  M.  Leger’s  French 
collection  of  Slav  tales),  the  hero  takes  from  a giant's 
castle  a table,  upon  which  one  has  merely  to  strike 
thrice  and  say,  ''  A royal  meal ! ” and  it  is  before  him. 
The  table  he  exchanges  with  an  old  man  for  a wonder- 
ful bagpipe,  which  when  played  upon  sends  forth  any 
number  of  armed  soldiers.  By  means  of  the  bagpipe 
he  recovers  his  table,  of  course,  which  he  again  ex- 
changes with  another  old  man  for  a sack,  which  pro- 
duces any  number  of  strong  castles  that  may  be 
necessary.  The  bagpipe  causes  its  uhlans  to  bring 
back  the  table  once  more,  after  which  the  hero  re- 
turns home  with  his  treasures,  and  marries  the  king's 
daughter. 

Now  observe  the  close  analogy  which  these  two 
stories  bear  to  this  Kalmuk  version  from  the  Tales  of 
Siddhi  Iviir  : 

Next  morning  the  man  descended  from  the  tree, 
and  said  to  himself,  ''  Last  night  there  were  in  this 
spot  many  choice  viands  and  liquors,  and  now  they 
are  all  vanished."  And  while  he  was  thus  speaking 
he  found  a golden  flask,  and  being  thirsty  he  put  it  to 
his  lips,  when  suddenly  there  sprang  out  meat  and 
cakes,  and  other  delicacies  fit  for  eating.  ''  This,"  cried 
he,  is  of  a surety  a wishing-flask,  which  will  procure 
him  who  has  it  everything  he  desires.  I will  take  it 
with  me."  And,  so  saying,  he  continued  his  journey. 


112 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


until  he  met  with  a man  holding  a sword  in  his  hand, 
and  he  asked  him  why  he  did  so.  The  man  answered, 
''  This  sword  is  called  Kreischwinger,  and  when  I say 
to  it,  ' Kreischwinger,  there  goes  a man  who  has  taken 
such  a thing  from  me ; follow  him  and  bring  it  back,’ 
— it  goes  forth,  kills  the  man,  and  brings  my  property 
back  again.”  To  this  the  other  replied,  Out  of 
this  vessel  springeth  everything  you  can  desire ; let 
us  exchange.”  So  they  made  an  exchange,  and  when 
the  man  went  away  with  the  flask,  he  who  now 
owned  the  sword  said,  ''  Kreischwinger,  go  forth  and 
bring  me  back  my  flask.”  So  the  sword  went  forth, 
smote  its  former  master  dead,  and  brought  the  golden 
vessel  back  again.  And  when  he  had  journeyed  a 
little  farther,  he  met  a man  holding  in  his  hand  an 
iron  hammer.  Wherefore,”  said  he,  dost  thou  hold 
that  iron  hammer  in  thy  hand  ? ” The  man  answered, 
''  When  I strike  the  earth  nine  times  with  this  hammer, 
a great  iron  wall  appears.”  Said  the  other,  ''  Let  us 
exchange;”  and  when  the  exchange  was  made,  he 
sent  his  sword  after  the  man  to  bring  back  his  flask. 
After  this  he  met  another  man,  who  carried  in  his 
bosom  a goat-skin  sack,  and  he  asked  him,  “ Wherefore 
keepest  thou  that  sack  ? ” And  the  man  replied,  This 
sack  is  a very  wonderful  thing.  When  you  shake  this 
sack,  it  rains ; if  you  shake  it  very  hard,  it  rains  very 
heavily.”  Hereupon  the  owner  of  the  flask  said,  Let 
us  exchange,”  and  they  did  so ; and  then  the  sword 
went  forth  and  slew  the  man,  and  returned  to  its 
master  with  the  golden  flask. 


INVISIBLE  CAPS  AND  CLOAKS,  ETC. 


113 


But  the  original  form  is  the  Buddhist  story  of 
''  Sakka’s  Presents/’  which  is  thus  rendered  by  Dr 
T.  W.  Ehys  Davids : 

“ Once  upon  a time,  when  Brahma-datta  was  reign- 
ing in  Benares,  four  brothers.  Brahmans  of  that  king- 
dom, devoted  themselves  to  an  ascetic  life,  and  having 
built  themselves  huts  at  equal  distances  in  the  region 
of  the  Himalaya  mountains,  took  up  their  residence 
there.  The  eldest  of  them  died,  and  was  reborn  as  the 
good  Sakka.  When  he  became  aware  of  this,  he  used 
to  go  and  render  help  at  intervals  every  seven  or  eight 
days  to  the  others.  And  one  day,  having  greeted  the 
eldest  hermit  and  sat  down  beside  him,  he  asked  him, 

‘ Eeverend  sir,  what  are  you  in  need  of  ? ’ The  hermit, 
who  suffered  from  jaundice,  answered,  'I  want  fire.’ 
So  he  gave  him  a double-edged  hatchet.  But  the 
hermit  said,  ' Who  is  to  take  this  and  bring  firewood  ? ’ 
Then  Sakka  spake  thus  to  him,  ‘ Whenever,  reverend 
sir,  you  want  firewood,  you  should  let  go  the  hatchet 
from  your  hand  and  say,  ''  Please  make  me  fire,”  and  it 
will  do  so.’  So  he  gave  him  the  hatchet,  and  went  to 
the  second  hermit,  and  asked  him,  'Eeverend  sir, 
what  are  you  in  need  of  ? ’ Now  the  elephants  had 
made  a track  for  themselves  close  to  his  hut,  and  he 
was  annoyed  by  the  elephants,  and  said,  ' I am  much 
troubled  by  elephants;  drive  them  away.’  Sakka, 
handing  him  a drum,  said,  ' Eeverend  sir,  if  you 
strike  on  this  side  of  it,  your  enemies  will  take  to 
flight ; but  if  you  strike  on  this  side,  they  will  become 
friendly  and  surround  you  on  all  sides,  an  army  in 

VOL.  I.  H 


114 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


fourfold  array.’  So  he  gave  him  the  drum,  and  went 
to  the  third  hermit,  and  asked  him,  'Eeverend  sir, 
what  are  you  in  need  of  ? ’ He  was  also  afflicted  with 
jaundice,  and  said  therefore,  ' I want  sour  milk.’  So 
he  gave  him  a milk-bowl,  and  said,  ' If  you  wish  for 
anything,  and  turn  this  bowl  over,  it  will  become  a 
great  river,  and  pour  out  such  a torrent  that  it  will  be 
able  to  take  a kingdom,  and  give  it  to  you.’  And  so 
he  went  away.  But  henceforward  the  hatchet  made 
fire  for  the  elder  hermit ; when  the  second  struck  one 
side  of  his  drum  the  elephants  ran  away;  and  the 
third  enjoyed  his  curds. 

''  Now  at  that  time  a wild  boar,  straying  in  a for- 
saken village,  saw  a gem  of  magical  power.  When  he 
seized  this  in  his  mouth,  he  rose  by  its  magic  into  the 
air,  and  went  to  an  island  in  the  midst  of  the  ocean. 
And  thinking,  'Here  I ought  to  live,’  he  descended 
and  took  up  his  abode  in  a convenient  spot  under  an 
iidumlara  tree.  And  one  day,  placing  the  gem  before 
him,  he  fell  asleep  at  the  foot  of  the  tree.  Now  a 
certain  man  of  the  land  of  Kasi  had  been  expelled 
from  home  by  his  parents,  who  said,  ' This  fellow  is 
of  no  use  to  us.’  So  he  went  to  a seaport  and  em- 
barked in  a ship  as  a servant  to  the  sailors.  And  the 
ship  was  wrecked,  but  by  the  help  of  a plank  he 
reached  that  very  island.  And  while  he  was  looking 
about  for  fruits,  he  saw  the  boar  asleep,  and  going 
softly  up,  he  took  hold  of  the  gem.  Then  by  its 
magical  power  he  straightway  rose  right  up  into  the 
air.  So,  taking  a seat  on  the  tree,  he  said  to  himself. 


INVISIBLE  CAPS  AND  CLOAKS,  ETC. 


115 


Methinks  this  boar  must  have  become  a sky-walker 
through  the  magic  power  of  this  gem.  That’s  how  he 
got  to  be  living  here.  It’s  plain  enough  what  I ought 
to  do : I’ll  first  of  all  kill  and  eat  him,  and  then  I can 
get  away.’  So  he  broke  a twig  off  the  tree  and  dropped 
it  on  his  head.  The  boar  woke  up,  and  not  seeing  the 
gem,  ran  about  trembling  this  way  and  that  way.  The 
man  seated  in  the  tree  laughed.  The  boar,  looking  up, 
saw  him,  and  dashing  his  head  against  the  tree,  died 
on  the  spot.  But  the  man  descended,  cooked  the 
flesh,  ate  it,  and  rose  into  the  air.  And  as  he  was 
passing  along  the  summit  of  the  Himalaya  range  he 
saw  a hermitage,  and  descending  at  the  hut  of  the 
eldest  hermit,  he  stayed  there  two  or  three  days  and 
waited  on  the  hermit,  and  thus  became  aware  of  the 
magic  power  of  the  hatchet.  ' I must  get  that,’  thought 
he.  And  he  showed  the  hermit  the  magic  power  of 
the  gem,  and  said,  ' Sir,  do  you  take  this,  and  give  me 
your  hatchet.’  The  ascetic,  full  of  longing  to  be  able 
to  fly  through  the  air,  did  so.  But  the  man,  taking 
the  hatchet,  went  a little  way  off,  and  letting  it  go, 
said,  ' 0 hatchet,  cut  off  thou  his  head,  and  bring  the 
gem  to  me.’  And  it  went  and  cut  off  the  hermit’s 
head  and  brought  the  gem.  Then  he  put  the  hatchet 
in  a secret  place,  and  went  to  the  second  hermit,  and 
stayed  there  a few  days ; and  having  become  aware  of 
the  magic  power  of  the  drum,  he  exchanged  the  gem 
for  the  drum,  and  cut  off  his  head  too  in  the  same  way 
as  before.  Then  he  went  to  the  third  hermit,  and  saw 
the  magic  power  of  the  milk-bowl,  and  exchanging  the 


116 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


gem  for  it,  caused  his  head  to  be  cut  off  in  the  same 
manner.  And  taking  the  gem,  the  hatchet,  the  drum, 
and  the  milk-bowl,  he  flew  away  up  into  the  air.”  ^ 

Such  supernaturally  endowed  objects  are-  common 
to  the  folk-lore  of  all  countries,  and  are  of  ancient 
date.  In  the  Greek  legends  there  is  the  wondrous 
horn  of  Amalthea,  which  produced  a never-failing  sup- 
ply of  food.  In  early  British  romance  we  And  the 
dish  or  napkin  of  Ehydderich  the  Scholar,  which  pro- 
vided a splendid  banquet,  and  the  Horn  of  Bran,  which 
produced  whatever  liquors  were  called  for.  In  the 
Indian  romance,  ‘ Sinhasana  Dwatrinsati  ’ (Thirty-two 
Tales  of  a Throne),  the  magical  objects  are  various  and 
numerous  : an  inexhaustible  purse ; earth,  which,  when 
rubbed  on  the  forehead,  overcomes  all  enemies,  and 
none  dare  oppose  its  possessor ; a stick,  which  during 
the  flrst  part  of  the  night  furnishes  ornaments  studded 
with  jewels,  in  the  second  part  a beautiful  girl,  in  the 
third  part  confers  invisibility,  and  in  the  fourth  part 
a deadly  foe  or  death;  a garland  of  flowers,  which 
renders  the  possessor  invincible  and  secures  success; 
a lotus-flower,  which  produces  a diamond  each  day, 
and  never  fades.  In  the  Persian  romance  of  ‘ Hatim 
Tai,’  the  hero  obtains  from  the  mouth  of  a dragon  a 
pearl  that  restored  sight  to  the  blind,  cured  the  bite 
of  a snake,  endeared  the  possessor  to  friend  or  foe, 

^ ‘ Buddhist  Birth -Stories.’  Translated,  from  the  Pali  text  of  V. 
Fausboll,  by  T.  W.  Rhys  Davids.  London  : Triibner  & Co.  1880. 
Vol.  I.  This  is,  according  to  the  learned  translator,  the  oldest  extant 
collection  of  folk-tales,  in  which  are  found  the  germs  of  many  Eastern 
as  well  as  Western  stories  and  apologues. 


INVISIBLE  CAPS  AND  CLOAKS,  ETC. 


117 


secured  victory  in  battle,  conferred  profound  wis- 
dom and  boundless  wealth,  and  rendered  all  creatures 
obedient  to  his  commands.^  In  the  'Katha  Sarit 
Sagara,’  a poor  woodcutter  receives  from  a party  of 
Yakshas  (a  species  of  semi-celestial  beings)  a pitcher, 
from  which,  whenever  he  put  in  his  hand,  he  could 
have  an  inexhaustible  supply  of  food  and  drink ; but 
should  the  pitcher  be  broken,  it  would  at  once  and  for 
ever  disappear.  For  some  time  after  this  the  woodcutter 
lived  in  happiness  and  prosperity,  until  one  evening, 
while  he  was  entertaining  his  friends,  he  took  the  pitcher 
and  placed  it  on  his  shoulder,  and  began  to  dance  and 
caper  about,  when  suddenly  the  pitcher  fell  to  the 
ground  and  was  broken  in  pieces,  and  immediately 
it  reverted  to  its  former  possessor,  leaving  “the  last 
state  of  that  man  worse  than  the  first,’'  since  he  could 
not  be  content  to  enjoy  his  fortune  reasonably.^  The 
prototype  of  all  inexhaustible  vessels,  bowls,  flasks,  &c., 

^ Hatim  was  a chief  of  the  Arab  tribe  of  Tai,  and  flourished  shortly 
before  the  promulgation  of  IsMm.  He  was  famed  for  his  unbounded 
generosity,  and  even  at  the  present  day  throughout  the  East  no 
higher  praise  can  be  bestowed  on  a generous  man  than  to  say  that 
he  is  “as  liberal  as  Hatim.”  In  the  Persian  romance,  Hatim  has  been 
adopted  for  the  hero  solely  because  of  his  renown : the  marvellous 
exploits  which  are  there  ascribed  to  him  are  purely  imaginary,  of 
course.  The  incidents  in  the  romance — which  is  very  entertaining, 
and  of  which  an  English  translation  by  Duncan  Forbes  was  published 
in  1830 — are  for  the  most  part  traceable  to  ancient  Indian  sources. 

^ This  story  reappears  in  the  Persian  romance,  ^ Tuti  Nama  ’ (Par- 
rot-Book) of  Nakhshabi,  where  it  is  interwoven  with  the  tale  of  the 
Singing  Ass.  It  is  omitted  in  KMeri’s  abridgment  of  the  ‘Tuti 
Ndma.’  In  Bartsch’s  Meklenburg  stories  a man  gets  possession  of 
an  inexhaustible  beer-can,  and  immediately  after  telling  how  he  got 
it,  the  beer  vanished. 


118 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


is  the  widow's  cruse,  of  which  we  read  in  the  First 
Book  of  Kings  (ch.  xvii.  14),  although  it  possessed  only 
a temporary  virtue.^ 


According  to  Korse  legend.  King  Frodi  had  a quern 
(or  hand-mill,  such  as  is  still  used  in  the  East),  which 
ground  peace  and  plenty.  Gold  was  so  abundant,  that 
golden  armlets  lay  untouched  from  year's  end  to  year’s 
end  on  the  king’s  highway.  In  Frodi’s  house  were 
two  maidens  of  the  old  giant  race,  Fenja  and  Menja. 
These  daughters  of  the  giant  he  had  bought  as  slaves, 
and  he  made  them  grind  his  quern,  Grotti,  out  of  which 
he  used  to  grind  peace  and  gold.  . . . He  kept  them 
to  the  mill,  nor  gave  them  longer  rest  than  the  cuckoo's 
note  lasted,  or  they  could  sing  a song.  But  the  quern 
was  such  that  it  ground  anything  that  the  grinder 
chose,  though  until  then  it  had  ground  nothing  but 
gold  and  peace.  So  the  maidens  ground  and  ground, 
and  one  sang  their  piteous  tale,  in  a strain  worthy  of 
JEschylus,  as  the  other  rested.  They  prayed  for  rest 
and  pity,  but  Frodi  was  deaf.  Then  they  turned  in 
giant  mood,  and  ground  no  longer  peace  and  plenty, 

^ During  a famine  in  Ceylon,  which  continued  for  twelve  years,  a 
priest  on  a journey  stopped  at  the  house  of  a man  named  Sakka. 
“There  remained  of  his  store  only  one  scanty  meal  of  rice,  which 
without  hesitation  he  ordered  to  be  dressed  for  his  guest.  His  charity 
was  rewarded  : his  little  modicum  became  inexhaustible,  and  sup- 
ported his  family  and  all  the  country  round  as  long  as  the  drought 
and  famine  lasted.  Though  a Gowanse  only,  the  people  out  of  grati- 
tude raised  him  to  the  throne,  and  as  a perpetual  memento  they  made 
the  commencement  of  his  reign  an  era,  which  is  still  in  common  use. 
The  first  year  of  Sakka  corresponds  with  621  of  Buddha  and  with  78 
of  our  era.” — Davy’s  ‘Account  of  Ceylon,’  p.  298. 


INVISIBLE  CAPS  AND  CLOAKS,  ETC. 


119 


but  fire  and  war.  Then  the  quern  went  fast  and  furi- 
ous, and  that  very  night  came  Mysing,  the  sea-rover, 
and  carried  off  the  quern,  and  slew  Frodi  and  all  his 
men,  and  so  Frodi’s  peace  ended.  The  maidens  the 
sea-rover  took  with  him,  and  when  he  got  on  the  high 
seas  he  bade  them  grind  salt : so  they  ground,  and  at 
midnight  they  asked  if  he  had  not  salt  enough ; but 
he  bade  them  still  grind  on ; so  they  ground,  till  the 
ship  was  full  and  sank — Mysing,  maids,  and  mill  and 
all — and  that’s  why  the  sea  is  salt.”^ 

The  magic  quern  figures  also  in  Icelandic  story : A 
poor  man  having  obtained  from  a mysterious  individ- 
ual a quern  that  would  grind  whatever  it  was  ordered 
to  grind,  on  repeating  this  charm — 

Grind  neither  malt  nor  salt ; 

Grind  in  the  name  of  the  Lord. 

Very  soon  his  house  was  filled  with  all  needful  articles. 
At  length  it  occurred  to  him  that  it  would  be  a good 
thing  to  have  some  money  to  spend,  although,  in  truth, 
he  needed  none,  as  he  had  plenty  of  everything.  So 
he  bade  the  quern  grind  gold  ; and  the  quern  ground 
on,  and  ground  pure  gold.  This  was  done  time  after 
time,  so  that  he  shortly  became  mighty  rich  in  gold. 
Then  said  he  to  his  wife,  he  fain  would  know  how 
much  gold  they  had.  She  answered  that  she  deemed 
that  not  needful ; she  only  knew  they  had  plenty  of 
it,  as  of  everything  else.  But  he  had  no  peace  till  he 
found  out  by  what  means  to  measure  his  gold.  As 

^ Dasent’s  ‘ Popular  Tales  from  the  Norse.’ 


120 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


they  themselves  had  no  measure,  he  ran  to  his  brother’s 
house  and  asked  him  for  one.  The  rich  brother  bade 
his  wife  to  lend  him  the  measure.  She  did  so ; but 
said  to  herself,  “What,  in  the  wide  world,  can  they 
have  to  measure  ? ” And,  so  saying,  she  took  resin 
and  smeared  the  measure  with  it,  where  the  sides  and 
bottom  meet,  and  then  gave  it  to  her  brother-in-law. 
He  went  home,  and  having  measured  his  gold-dust 
gave  back  the  measure.  His  sister-in-law  took  it  and 
looked  within,  and  saw  that  all  round  the  bottom  gold- 
dust  clave  to  it.  She  then  took  it  to  her  husband,  and 
said,  “ Your  brother  measures  gold,  while  we  measure 
only  rye.”  ^ So  the  rich  man  went  and  learned  from 
his  brother  all  about  the  wonderful  quern,  and  offered 
to  exchange  his  manor  for  it,  to  which  the  latter,  being 
already  sufficiently  wealthy,  agreed.  And  the  cottage- 
farmer  moved  to  the  manor,  and  took  to  himself  all 
his  brother’s  possessions.  But  the  other  bought  him- 
self a vessel,  and  embarked  in  it,  taking  nothing  with 
him  but  his  wife,  his  children,  and  his  quern,  thinking 
that  he  had  made  a marvellous  gain  by  his  bargain. 
When  he  was  a good  distance  from  the  coast,  he  set  to 
work  to  put  the  quern  in  trim,  in  order  that  it  might 
grind  them  all  they  needed,  and  he  repeated  this 
verse — 

Grind  neither  malt  nor  salt ; 

Grind  in  the  name  of  the  Lord  ! 


1 The  reader  will  not  fail  to  be  struck  with  the  resemblance  wdiich 
this  incident  bears  to  one  in  the  Arabian  tale  of  Ali  Baba  and  the 
Forty  Thieves  ; it  is,  indeed,  of  frequent  occurrence  in  folk-tales 
everywhere. 


INVISIBLE  CAPS  AND  CLOAKS,  ETC. 


121 


But  do  and  say  whatever  he  would,  the  quern  stood 
still  and  immovable,  till  at  last  he  grew  angry,  and 
cried  out,  in  a wild  rage : 

Grind,  then,  both  malt  and  salt ; 

Grind  in  the  name  of  the  Lord  ! 

Then  the  quern  began  grinding  malt  and  salt,  and  in 
a short  while  overcharged  the  vessel,  and  as  there  were 
no  means,  anyhow,  of  stopping  the  quern,  the  end  of 
it  was  that  the  vessel  sank  with  all  on  board  of  it,  and 
has  never  since  been  seen.”  ^ 

The  Norwegian  version  of  this  tale  concludes  differ- 
ently : The  elder  brother,  having  obtained  the  quern, 
orders  it  to  grind  broth  and  herrings,  but  he  did  not 
know  how  to  stop  it,  so  the  broth  and  herrings  filled 
his  house,  and  flowed  over  all  his  fields,  and  he  gladly 
restored  it  to  the  hero,  who  sold  it  to  a skipper.  When 
the  skipper  was  out  at  sea,  he  told  the  quern  to  grind 
salt  for  his  cargo,  and  after  the  ship  was  filled,  the 
quern  continued  to  grind  away  till  the  ship  sank  and 


^ Powell  and  Magnusson’s  ‘ Icelandic  Legends,’  second  series,  pp. 
16-20. — There  are  some  points  of  resemblance  between  this  story  and 
the  Kalmuk  tale  of  the  Avaricious  Brother,  ante,  pp.  101,  102.  In  the 
commencement  of  the  Icelandic  story,  the  rich  brother  kills  an  ox 
one  day,  and  the  poor  one  goes  to  ask  him  for  a piece  of  the  flesh,  for 
he  is  in  sore  distress  for  want  of  food.  At  first  he  is  refused  by  the 
rich  brother,  but  in  the  end  he  gets  one  of  the  thighs  of  the  ox,  and 
is  told,  in  a rage,  to  ‘‘go  along  with  it  to  the  devil.”  The  poor  fellow 
thinks  his  brother  meant  what  he  said,  and  sets  off  to  deliver  the 
meat  to  the  fiend,  and  receives  in  return  the  magic  quern,  which,  as 
we  have  seen,  is  the  cause  of  the  rich  brother’s  destruction. — It  is 
curious  to  observe  in  fairy  tales  of  this  kind  that  the  possessor  of  a 
wealth-giving  thing  is  always  so  foolish  as  to  sell  it  for  money  ! 


122 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


all  were  drowned ; and  as  the  quern  still  grinds,  the 
sea  is  always  salt.^ 

We  have  thus  seen  that  the  purse  and  hat  of  Fortu- 
natus,  and  the  sword,  shoes,  coat,  and  cap  of  the  re- 
nowned Jack,  have  their  counterparts  among  ''  all 
peoples,  and  kindreds,  and  tongues,”  and  to  the  numer- 
ous and  varied  magical  objects  which  have  passed 
under  our  review  may  be  added,  without  by  any  means 
exhausting  the  list — the  lamp  of  Aladdin,  which  (or 
rather,  the  ''  slave  ” of  which)  procured  him  everything 
he  desired ; the  purse  of  Bedredden  Hasan,  which  the 
fairy  always  kept  filled  for  him ; the  Sangreal,  which 
furnished  the  knights  of  Arthur’s  Eound-Table  with  a 
grand  banquet ; and  the  table  of  the  Ethiopians,  which 
Herodotus  tells  us  was  covered  with  all  kinds  of 
dainties. 

^ Dasent’s  ‘ Popular  Tales  from  the  Norse.’ 


123 


GOLD  - PEODUCING  ANIMALS. 

O OMETIMES,  in  place  of  an  inexhaustible  purse,  we 
find  a tree,  a beast,^  a bird,  and  even  the  human 
person  represented  as  producing  in  the  same  marvel- 
lous manner  a daily  supply  of  gold.  Our  nursery  tale 
of  the  goose  that  daily  laid  a gold  egg  has  its  parallels 
in  the  folk-tales  of  Europe  generally,  and  finds  coun- 
terparts in  Indian  fiction.  According  to  the  Latin 
^sop  (ed.  1658) : ''  He  that  seeketh  to  get  more  than 
he  ought,  ofttimes  getteth  nothing ; as  saith  the  fable 
of  a man  which  had  a goose  that  laid  every  day  an 
egg  of  gold.  The  man,  out  of  covetousness,  commanded 
her  that  she  should  lay  every  day  two  eggs,  and  she 
said,  ' Certainly,  my  master,  I may  not.’  Whereupon 
the  man  was  wroth  with  her  and  slew  her,  by  means 
whereof  he  lost  his  profit,  and  afterward  waxed  very 
sorrowful.”  ^ But  in  our  modern  nursery  version,  the 

^ Such  as  the  ram  and  the  wishing-hull  of  Norse  tales,  already  men- 
tioned, pp.  89  and  109. 

2 This  fable  is  ascribed  to  Avian,  a Latin  writer  of  the  fourteenth 
century,  who  imitated  Phsedrus. — It  is  thus  briefly  related  by  Bab- 


124 


POPULAE  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


goose  (it  is  a hen  in  some  editions  of  JEsop)  is  killed 
in  expectation  of  finding  a lump  of  gold  in  her  insided 
In  the  course  of  Jack  the  Giant-Killer’s  memorable 
adventures,  he  finds  among  the  treasures  of  one  of  his 
^ cousins  ” a gold-laying  hen ; and  in  the  story  of  Jack 
and  the  Bean-stalk,  the  hero  steals  a wonderful  hen 
that  lays  a gold  egg  as  often  as  the  possessor  says 

Lay.” — In  the  13th  fable  of  Book  hi.  of  the  ' Pancha- 
tantra’  we  read  of  a bird  that  perched  upon  a tree 
and  voided  pure  gold : she  is  captured  by  a huntsman, 
who  presents  her  to  the  king,  describing  her  wonderful 
qualities ; but  the  king’s  foolish  advisers  persuade  him 
to  discredit  the  huntsman’s  story,  and  set  the  bird  at 
liberty.  In  the  noble  Indian  epic  ' Mahabharata,’  it 
is  related  that  King  Srinjaya  obtained  as  a boon  from 
the  sage  Narada  that  he  should  have  a son  whose 
nature  was  such,  that  all  that  issued  from  his  body 
was  of  gold.  The  king’s  wealth  in  consequence  in- 
creased enormously.  The  son  was,  however,  carried  off 
and  killed  by  robbers,  who  hoped  to  get  gold  from  his 

rius  : A bird  once  laid  golden  eggs.  Wishing  to  take  the  gold  from 
her,  a lover  of  gold  killed  her,  and  lost  the  very  great  gift  of  fortune.” 

^ Mr  Baring- Gould  says,  “ The  golden  egg  laid  every  morning  by 
the  red  hen  is  the  dawn-produced  sun.”  And  Dr  Rhys  Davids  thus 
explains  the  origin  of  the  legend  of  the  goose  that  laid  golden  eggs  : 

The  word  hansa  (pronounce  hangsa),  generally  translated  goose, 
means  more  exactly  a wild-duck  ; and  the  epithet  golden,  in  descrip- 
tion of  its  beauty  of  colour.  But  the  word  hansa  is  etymologically 
the  same  as  our  word  goose  (compare  German  gans)^  and  the  epithet 
golden,  when  applied  to  a goose,  being  meaningless  as  descriptive  of 
outward  appearance,  gave  rise  to  the  fable  of  the  goose  with  the 
golden  eggs.  The  latter,  therefore,  is  a true  myth,  born  of  a word- 
puzzle,  invented  to  explain  an  expression  which  had  lost  its  meaning 
through  the  progress  of  linguistic  growth.” — Both  absurdly  wrong  ! 


GOLD-PRODUCING  ANIMALS. 


125 


body,  but  were  disappointed.^  Here  we  seem  to  have  the 
original  of  our  nursery  story  of  the  gold-laying  goose. 

Serpents  are  celebrated  producers  of  gold,  and  also 
of  jewels  of  talismanic  power,  in  fairy  tales.  In  the 
Kalmuk  ' Eelations  of  Siddhi  Kiir/  the  son  of  the 
khan,  after  killing  the  yellow  serpent,  eats  its  head, 
and  lo  ! he  can  spit  out  gold  in  any  quantity;  his  com- 
panion eats  the  head  of  the  green  serpent,  and  can 
spit  out  emeralds.  The  5th  fable  of  Book  iii.  of  the 
' Panchatantra  ’ is  of  the  same  class  as  our  story  of  the 
goose  that  laid  eggs  of  gold : 

“ In  a certain  country  dwelt  a Brahman  who  reaped 
no  benefit  from  the  cultivation  of  his  grounds.  As  he 
was  reposing  one  day  in  the  hot  season  under  the  shade 
of  a tree,  he  dreamt  that  he  beheld  a large  hooded 
snake,  coiled  upon  an  ant-hill,  at  a little  distance ; and 
waking  from  his  dream,  he  concluded  that  the  snake 
must  be  the  tutelary  deity  of  the  spot,  who  was  little 
pleased  with  him,  as  one  from  whom  he  had  never 
received  any  veneration.  The  Brahman  determined 
therefore  to  worship  him,  and  boiling  some  milk,  he 
placed  it  in  a vessel,  and  carried  it  to  the  ant-hill,  ex- 
claiming, as  he  laid  the  cup  upon  the  ground,  ' Lord 
of  the  soil,  I have  hitherto  been  ignorant  of  thy  place 
of  residence,  and  therefore  have  only  forborne  thy 
worship ; forgive  my  negligence,  and  accept  my  obla- 

^ ‘ Metrical  Translations  from  Sanskrit  Writers,’  by  Dr  John  Muir, 
p.  27. — There  are  also  birds  that  void  gold  in  the  ‘ Mahdbh^rata.’  In 
La  Fontaine’s  ‘ Contes  et  Nouvelles’  there  is  a little  dog  “qui  secoue 
de  I’argent  et  des  perreries  ; ” and  an  ass  with  the  same  gift  in  the 
Signora  von  Gonzenbach’s  ‘ Sicilianische  Marchen.’ 


126 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


tion.i  So  saying,  he  left  the  milk  and  went  home. 
When  he  visited  the  ant-hill  in  the  morning  following, 
he  found  in  place  of  the  milk  a dinar,  and  this  was 
repeated  daily.  At  last  the  Brahman,  having  occasion 
to  go  to  the  village,  appointed  his  son  to  present  an 
oblation  of  milk  in  his  absence.  When  the  lad,  upon 
the  ensuing  morning,  found  the  dinar  as  usual,  it  oc- 
curred to  him  that  the  mound  must  be  filled  with  coin, 
and  that  it  would  be  the  most  eligible  plan  to  kill  its 
serpent  owner,  and  seize  at  once  upon  the  whole  of  the 
treasure.^  Arming  himself,  therefore,  with  a stick,  he 
lay  in  wait  for  the  snake,  as  he  was  lapping  the  milk, 
and  struck  him  on  the  head.  The  blow  failed  to  kill 
the  snake,  and  the  animal,  inflamed  with  wrath,  bit 
the  lad  with  his  venomous  fangs,  so  that  he  immedi- 
ately died.  The  body  was  burnt  by  his  people,  who 
were  at  hand,  and  saw  what  had  chanced.  The  father 
returned  on  the  day  following,  and,  when  he  had  heard 
the  cause  of  his  son’s  death,  was  satisfied  that  the 

1 Regarding  serpent- worship,  see  Tylor’s  ‘Primitive  Culture,’ vol.  ii. 
p.  217. 

2 It  is  a popular  belief  throughout  the  East  that  serpents  and 
dragons  are  the  guardians  of  concealed  treasure.  The  notion  was 
probably  derived  from  the  Hindus,  although  it  also  prevailed  among 
the  ancient  Greeks  ; for  example  : the  Scythian  griffins; that  guarded 
the  treasures  coveted  by  the  Arimaspians,  and  the  dragon  that  watched 
the  golden  apples  of  the  Hesperides.  In  the  ‘ Nibelungenlied,’  the 
dragon  Fafnir  keeps  guard  over  a vast  treasure  of  gold  ; Sigurd  fights 
and  slays  him,  and  takes  away  all  the  treasure.  And  in  Eastern  fic- 
tion, whenever  the  adventurous  hero  comes  to  a valley  strewed  with 
diamonds  and  other  precious  stones — Sindbdd’s  diamond-valley  is  not 
the  only  one  ! — the  treasures  are  invariably  found  guarded  (or,  which 
is  all  the  same,  the  place  is  infested)  by  multitudes  of  fierce  serpents 
and  similar  creatures. 


GOLD-PRODUCING  ANIMALS. 


127 


event  was  not  unmerited,  declaring  that  the  vital 
elements  will  be  ever  snatched  from  those  who  show 
no  tenderness  to  those  living  creatures  that  repair  to 
them  for  preservation,  as  happened  to  the  swans  and 
their  lake.  The  persons  present  asked  him  to  explain 
this  allusion,  and  he  thus  replied : 

'' ' In  a certain  country  reigned  Chitraratha,  in  whose 
gardens  was  an  extensive  lake,  guarded  by  his  troops. 
In  this  lake  were  golden  swans,  who  moulted  a feather 
once  in  every  six  months.  A large  bird,  having  joined 
them,  was  refused  admission  to  their  troop,  they  claim- 
ing the  exclusive  occupation  of  the  lake,  by  the  fee 
of  the  moulted  feather.  After  much  discussion,  the 
stranger-bird  applied  to  the  king,  and  said : ''  Sire, 
these  swans  have  had  the  audacity  to  say,  ' What  have 
we  to  do  with  the  king  ? We  will  not  allow  any  one 
to  preside  here ; ’ and  it  was  to  no  purpose  that  I ex- 
postulated with  them  on  the  impropriety  of  such  lan- 
guage, and  threatened  to  bring  it  to  your  knowledge.” 
The  king,  having  heard  this,  commanded  his  servants 
to  go  and  kill  the  birds,  and  bring  them  to  him ; and 
they  set  off  with  this  intent.  When  they  approached 
the  lake,  an  old  swan,  suspecting  their  purpose,  per- 
suaded the  rest  to  fly  away;  and  thus,  although  they 
preserved  their  lives,  they  lost  the  residence  which 
they  refused  to  share  with  a guest.’  ^ 

''  Having  related  this  tale,  the  Brahman  proceeded 
to  worship  the  snake.  But  the  serpent  could  not  be 
tempted  forth,  but  showing  himself  at  the  entrance  of 

^ But  the  king  lost  his  half-yearly  fee  of  a golden  feather. 


128 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


his  hole,  he  thus  spoke : ' Avarice  brings  thee  hither, 
and  banishes  all  sorrow  for  thy  son's  fate,  but  there 
cannot  be  any  cordiality  between  thee  and  me.  In 
the  insane  presumption  of  youth,  your  son  struck  me ; 
I have  bitten  him  and  killed  him : how  is  it  possible 
for  me  ever  to  forget  his  violence  ? How  is  it  possible 
that  you  should  ever  forget  his  death  ? Take  this 
jewel,  then;  depart,  and  never  more  approach  this 
place.'  Having  thus  spoken,  and  cast  a gem  of  in- 
estimable value  to  the  Brahman,  he  withdrew  into  his 
hole.  The  Brahman  took  the  jewel,  but,  considering 
its  value  very  much  inferior  to  what  he  might  have 
acquired  by  long  assiduous  homage,  never  ceased  to 
lament  the  folly  of  his  son."  ^ 

This  story  seems  to  be  an  adaptation  of  the  legend 
of  the  king's  son  in  the  ' Mahabharata ' already  referred 
to ; and  it  forms  the  141st  tale  of  Swan's  translation 
of  the  ‘ Gesta  Eomanorum,'  as  follows : 

In  the  reign  of  the  Emperor  Eulgentius,  a certain 
knight  named  Zedechias  married  a very  beautiful  but 
imprudent  wife.  In  a certain  chamber  of  their  man- 
sion a serpent  dwelt.  Now  the  knight's  vehement 
inclination  for  tournaments  and  jousting  brought  him 
to  extreme  poverty ; he  grieved  immoderately,  and, 
like  one  who  was  desperate,  walked  backward  and 
forward,  ignorant  of  what  he  should  do.  The  serpent, 
beholding  his  misery,  like  the  ass  of  Balaam,  was  on 

^ “ Analytical  Account  of  the  Pancha  Tantra,”  by  Horace  Hay  man 
Wilson,  in  ‘ Transactions  of  the  Royal  Asiatic  Society  of  Great  Britain 
and  Ireland.’  Vol.  i.  1827. 


GOLD-PRODUCING  ANIMALS. 


129 


this  occasion  miraculously  gifted  with  a voice,  and 
said  to  the  knight,  ' Why  do  you  lament  ? Take  my 
advice,  and  you  shall  not  repent  it.  Supply  me  every 
day  with  a certain  quantity  of  sweet  milk,  and  I will 
enrich  you.’  This  promise  exhilarated  the  knight,  and 
he  faithfully  followed  the  instructions  of  his  subtle 
friend.  The  consequence  was  that  he  had  a beautiful 
son,  and  became  exceedingly  wealthy.  But  it  hap- 
pened that  his  wife  one  day  said  to  him,  ' My  lord,  I 
am  sure  that  serpent  has  great  riches  hidden  in  the 
chamber  where  he  dwells.  Let  us  kill  him,  and  get 
possession  of  the  whole.’  The  advice  pleased  the 
knight,  and  at  the  request  of  his  wife  he  took  a ham- 
mer to  destroy  the  serpent,  and  a vessel  of  milk.  Al- 
lured by  the  milk,  it  put  its  head  out  of  the  hole,  as  it 
had  been  accustomed  to  do,  and  the  knight  lifted  the 
hammer  to  strike  it.  The  serpent,  observing  his  per- 
fidy, suddenly  drew  back  its  head,  and  the  blow  fell 
upon  the  vessel.  No  sooner  had  he  done  this  than 
the  knight’s  offspring  died,  and  he  lost  everything  that 
he  formerly  possessed.”  In  the  sequel,  the  knight’s 
wife  urges  him  to  go  to  the  serpent  and  humbly 
acknowledge  his  offence;  he  does  so,  but  the  ser- 
pent replies  that  he  can  never  forget  the  blow  aimed 
at  him,  and  henceforward  there  could  be  no  peace 
between  them.  The  knight  then  departed,  bitterly 
regretting  that  he  had  followed  his  wife’s  counsel.^ 

1 One  of  the  fables  of  Marie  de  France,  who  flourished  in  the  middle 
of  the  13th  century,  “ Le  Villain  et  le  Dragon,”  was  in  all  likelihood 
the  direct  source  of  the  ‘ Gesta  ’ story.  (See  Le  Grand’s  ‘ Fabliaux,’ 

VOL.  1.  I 


130 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


The  story  is  told  differently  in  the  Latin  ^sop, 
which  was  composed  in  the  fifteenth  century ; the  ser- 
pent does  not  give  gold,  but  his  presence  is  the  cause 
of  good  fortune  to  a poor  man : 

He  that  applies  himself  to  do  other  men  harm 
ought  not  to  think  himself  secure ; wherefore  ^sop 
rehearseth  this  fable.  There  was  a serpent  which 
came  into  the  house  of  a poor  man,  and  lived  of  that 
which  fell  from  the  poor  man’s  table,  for  the  which 
thing  there  happened  great  fortune  to  this  man,  and 
he  became  rich.  But  on  a day  this  man  was  very 
angry  against  the  serpent,  and  took  a sword  and  smote 
at  him,  wherefore  the  serpent  went  out  of  the  house 
and  came  no  more  thither  again.  A little  after,  this 
man  fell  again  into  great  poverty,  and  then  he  knew 
that  by  fortune  of  the  serpent  he  was  become  rich, 
wherefore  it  repented  him  that  he  had  driven  away 
the  serpent.  Then  he  went  and  humbled  himself  to 
the  serpent,  saying,  ' I pray  thee  that  thou  wilt  par- 
don me  the  offence  that  I have  done  thee.’  And  the 
serpent  said,  ‘ Seeing  thou  repentest  thee  of  thy  mis- 
deed, I forgive  thee ; but  as  long  as  I shall  live  I shall 
remember  thy  malice,  for  as  thou  hurtedst  me,  so  thou 
mayest  again.’  Wherefore  that  which  was  once  evil 
shall  ever  so  be  held  : men  ought  therefore  not  to  in- 
sult over  him  of  whom  they  receive  some  benefit,  nor 
yet  to  suspect  their  good  and  true  friends.” 

ed.  1781,  vol.  V.  p.  405.) — In  a version  from  Bukhara  cited  by  Rev. 
Dr  Wolff  in  his  journal  (see  ‘ The  Morning  Watch’,  1832-33),  the  man’s 
son  attempts  to  kill  the  gold-giving  serpent  after  his  father’s  death. 


GOLD-PRODUCING  ANIMALS. 


131 


In  No.  17  of  Dozon’s  collection  of  Albanian  Tales  ^ 
we  have  a similar  story  of  a gold-producing  lion : A 
poor  man,  who  had  a wife  and  one  son,  gained  a 
scanty  livelihood  by  carrying  stones  on  asses  to  the 
neighbouring  city.  On  one  occasion  he  went  a greater 
distance  for  stones  than  was  his  wont,  and  discovered 
a great  lion  sunning  himself.  The  lion,  on  seeing  him, 
rose  up,  at  which  the  man  would  have  fled,  being  much 
terrifled ; but  the  beast,  as  if  to  reassure  him,  lay  down 
again,  and  he  then  drew  somewhat  nearer,  when  the 
lion  dropped  from  his  mouth  a piece  of  gold  of  the 
value  of  1000  piastres.  The  man  hastened  home  and 
showed  this  windfall  to  his  wife,  who,  like  himself, 
was  full  of  joy.  He  goes  again  next  day,  with  the 
same  result,  and  so  for  some  days,  when,  by  the  advice 
of  his  wife,  he  erects  an  iron  railing  around  the  lion, 
with  a gate  for  entry,  and  begins  to  feed  the  invaluable 
animal  with  4 ocques  of  meat  and  3 ocques  of  milk 
daily,  receiving  in  return  the  same  golden  present 
each  time  he  came  with  the  food.  The  people  soon 
begin  to  wonder  at  their  neighbour’s  wealth,  and 
somehow  come  to  know  about  the  lion ; and  the  boys 
jeer  at  his  son,  calling  him  a booby,  because  he  does 
not  know  that  his  father  is  really  a mere  carrier  of 
stones,  and  that  his  wealth  is  obtained  from  a lion. 
Stung  by  their  jeers  and  flouts,  the  lad  goes  to  his 
mother,  and  worms  out  of  her  all  the  particulars,  and 
insists  upon  going  to  see  the  lion,  but  she  is  afraid  lest 

^ ‘ Contes  Albanais,’  recueillis  et  traduits  par  Auguste  Dozon. 
Paris  : 1881. 


132 


POPULAE  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


he  should  be  killed,  as  the  beast  did  not  know  him : 
ultimately  she  gives  him  the  key  of  the  cage,  and  he 
sets  off  on  horseback,  accompanied  by  a servant.  He 
enters  the  cage,  springs  on  the  lion  with  a drawn 
sabre,  and  is  instantly  torn  in  pieces.  The  servant 
returns  home  and  recounts  the  youth’s  fate  to  his 
parents,  who  are  distracted  with  grief.  The  father 
erects  a tomb  for  his  son  near  the  lion’s  cage,  but  the 
beast  gives  no  more  a piece  of  gold.  At  length  he 
goes  to  the  lion  one  day  with  his  usual  supply  of  food, 
and  with  tears  begs  him  to  renew  his  former  gifts,  for 
he  is  now  become  very  poor.  ''  Thou  hast  killed  my 
son,”  says  he,  ''  but  I bear  thee  no  hatred  on  that 
account.”  To  which  the  noble  animal  replied,  “I 
shall  give  thee,  it  is  true,  the  piece  of  gold,  and  thou 
shalt  give  me  the  usual  ration : but  none  the  less  is 
our  friendship  at  an  end ; for  thou,  seeing  here  the 
tomb  of  thy  son,  wilt  curse  me — hatred  and  fear  will 
fill  thy  heart ; and  I,  thinking  on  the  blood  which  has 
flowed  from  my  tail,  shall  wish  to  see  thee  no  more. 
Yet,  if  thou  continuest  to  feed  me,  I will  give  thee  the 
piece  of  gold.” 

These  stories  of  gold-producing  animals,  it  will  be 
readily  perceived  on  comparing  them,  are  each  alter  et 
idem  ; the  moral  ” being  one  that  runs  at  large,”  and 
thus  neatly  expressed  in  our  own  vernacular : ''  Don’t 
kill  the  goose  that  lays  the  golden  eggs  ! ” 


133 


ADVENTURES  WITH  GIANTS,  TROLLS,  GHULS,  ETC. 

TN  a former  paper  it  is  said  that  the  story  of  J ack 
and  the  Giants  came  to  us  from  the  North,  and 
that  the  Northern  legends  and  tales  of  adventures 
with  trolls  and  similar  monsters  are  also  found  in 
Eastern  fiction;  and  in  order  to  prove  this,  let  us 
take  one  or  two  of  the  renowned  Jack’s  valiant  ex- 
ploits, from  the  veracious  chap-book  narrative. 

Jack,  we  are  told,  “having  got  a little  money, 
travelled  into  Flintshire,  and  came  to  a large  house 
in  a lonesome  place ; and,  by  reason  of  his  present 
necessity,  he  took  courage  to  knock  at  the  gate,  when, 
to  his  amazement,  there  came  forth  a monstrous  giant 
with  two  heads,  yet  he  did  not  seem  so  fiery  as  the 
former  giants,  for  he  was  a Welsh  giant.”  The  story 
informs  us  that  this  giant  was  of  a less  savage  dis- 
position because  of  his  breakfasting  on  a great  basin 
of  hasty-pudding.  Our  hero,  having  undressed  him- 
self, was  about  to  lie  down  on  the  bed  appropriated 
to  him,  when  he  heard  the  giant  say  to  himself,  as  he 
walked  towards  another  chamber — 


134 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


“ Though  here  you  lodge  with  me  this  night, 

You  shall  not  see  the  morning  light ; 

My  club  shall  dash  your  brains  out  quite.” 

“ Say  you  SO  muttered  Jack;  ‘'is  that  one  of  your 
Welsh  tricks  ? But  I hope  to  be  quite  as  cunning 
as  you,  my  friend.”  Then,  looking  about  the  room, 
he  found  a thick  billet  and  laid  it  on  the  bed  in  his 
stead,  and  hid  himself  in  a dark  corner  of  the  room. 
In  the  dead  time  of  the  night  came  the  giant  with  his 
club,  and  struck  several  blows  on  the  bed  where  Jack 
had  craftily  laid  the  billet,  and  then  returned  to  his 
own  room,  supposing  he  had  broken  all  Jack’s  bones. 
Early  in  the  morning  J ack  came  to  thank  the  giant 
for  his  lodging.  “ Oh,”  said  the  giant,  “ did  you  see 
anything  last  night?”  “No,”  said  Jack;  “but  a rat 
gave  me  three  or  four  slaps  with  its  tail.”  ^ 

Compare  this  with  the  device  practised  by  the  giant 

1 In  a subsequent  adventure  Jack  enters  the  castle  of  the  giant 
Thondel,  who  speedily  discovers  his  presence  though  he  does  not  see 
him,  exclaiming — 

“ Fe,  fa,  fum  ! 

I smell  the  blood  of  an  Englishman  ; 

Be  he  alive,  or  be  he  dead, 

I’ll  grind  his  bones  to  make  me  bread.” 

That  our  story  of  Jack  and  the  Giants  is  older  than  the  time  of 
Queen  Elizabeth  seems  evident  from  the  occurrence  of  part  of  the 
giant’s  exclamation  in  Shakspeare’s  ^ King  Lear,’  where  Edgar,  as 
Mad  Tom,  sings  (Act.  hi.  sc.  5) — 

“ Child  Rowland  to  the  dark  tower  came, 

His  word  was  still.  Fee,  foh,  and  fum, 

I smell  the  blood  of  a British  man.” 

It  is  curious  to  find  a similar  expression  in  Scandinavian  stories,  in 
which  trolls,  giants,  and  ogres  exclaim,  when  the  hero  is  concealed  in 
the  house,  “ I smell  Christian  flesh ! ” Thus  also  in  French  tales  : 


ADVENTURES  WITH  GIANTS,  TROLLS,  ETC.  135 

Skrymer,  when  he  accompanied  Thor  on  his  journey 
to  TJtgard,  which  is  found  related  in  the  12th  chapter 
of  the  Edda  of  Snorro : At  midnight  the  mighty  son 
of  earth  laid  himself  to  sleep  beneath  an  oak,  and 
snored  aloud.  Thor,  the  giant-killer,  resolved  to  rid 
himself  of  his  unsuspicious  companion,  and  struck 
him  with  his  tremendous  hammer.  ''Hath  a leaf 
fallen  upon  me  from  the  tree  ? ’’  exclaimed  the  awak- 
ened giant.  The  giant  soon  slept  again,  and  snored, 
as  the  Edda  says,  as  loudly  as  if  it  had  thundered  in 
the  forest.  Thor  struck  the  giant  again,  and,  as  he 
thought,  the  hammer  made  a mortal  indentation  in 
his  forehead.  " What  is  the  matter  ? ’’  quoth  Skrymer ; 
" hath  an  acorn  fallen  on  my  head  V A third  time 
the  potent  giant  snored,  and  a third  time  did  the 
hammer  descend,  " with  huge  two-handed  sway,’'  and 
with  such  force  that  Thor  weened  the  iron  had  buried 
itself  in  Skrymer’s  temples.  " Methinks,”  quoth  Skry- 
mer, rubbing  his  cheek,  "some  moss  hath  fallen  on 
my  face.”  Thor  might  well  be  amazed  at  the  escape 
of  the  giant;  but  Skrymer  had  outwitted  his  enemy 
by  placing  an  immense  rock  on  the  leafy  couch,  where 
Thor  supposed  he  was  sleeping,  which  received  the 
blows  of  the  hammer  instead. 

And  in  the  Albanian  story  of  the  Bear  and  the 

Femme,  je  sens  la  viande  fraiche,  la  chair  de  chretien  ! ” In  Italian 
stories  of  ogres,  etc. — 

“ Fmn  ! fmn  ! 

Sento  odour  di  cristianum  ! ” 

And  in  Indian  stories  of  rdkshasas  is  the  same  formula  as  that  of 
Jack’s  giant  Thondel : Fee,  faw,  fum ! This  room  smells  of  man’s 
flesh ! ” 


136 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


Dervish,  we  read  that  the  bear  told  his  mother  and 
his  sister  to  sharpen  the  axe,  for  he  must  kill  that 
man,  he  is  so  strong;  but  the  bear’s  sister  warned 
the  dervish  of  this,  so  he  concealed  himself.  During 
the  night  the  bear  made  three  or  four  strokes  with  his 
axe  on  the  bed,  and  went  back  to  sleep.  In  the  morn- 
ing he  went  out  early  for  wood,  and  was  surprised  on 
his  return  to  see  the  dervish  alive  and  well.  ''Did 
nothing  happen  to  you  during  the  night  ? ” asked  he 
of  the  dervish.  " Nothing,  except  that  three  or  four 
fleas  bit  me.” — Dozen’s  ' Contes  Albanais.’ 

Jack,  it  will  be  remembered,  having  escaped  being 
pulverised  by  the  giant  in  the  manner  aforesaid,  sits 
down  to  breakfast  with  his  two-headed  host.  The 
giant  placed  a huge  bowl  of  his  favourite  hasty- 
pudding  on  the  table,  and  invited  Jack  to  help  him- 
self. Jack  had  secretly  fastened  his  scrip  beneath 
his  jacket,  and  instead  of  swallowing  each  spoonful  he 
slipped  a great  deal  into  the  scrip,  and  when  at  length 
the  giant  could  eat  no  more.  Jack  told  him  that  he 
could  easily  relieve  his  stomach  without  hurting  him- 
self, and  thus  be  ready  to  eat  as  much  more:  so 
saying,  he  slit  open  the  scrip  with  his  knife,  upon 
which  the  Welsh  giant,  exclaiming,  "Hur  can  do 
that  hurself,”  ripped  himself  open,  and  immediately 
expired. 

This  incident  occurs  in  the  Norse  tale  of  the  Youth 
who  ate  a match  with  a Troll.  The  young  man  has 
a soft  new  cheese  in  his  scrip,  and  when  the  troll 
threatens  to  kill  him,  he  takes  it  out,  and  in  his  turn 


ADVENTUKES  WITH  GIANTS,  TEOLLS,  ETC.  137 

threatens  to  squeeze  the  troll  as  he  squeezes  the 
water  out  of  ''  this  white  stone!'  The  troll  is  fright- 
ened, and  makes  his  peace  with  the  young  hero. 
When  it  is  supper-time  the  troll  undertakes  to  make 
up  the  fire,  while  the  lad  goes  to  fetch  water  for  their 
porridge,  in  his  iron  pails,  which  he  could  not  so  much 
as  lift  from  the  ground.  ‘‘  Pooh  ! ” said  he,  ''  it  isn’t 
worth  while  to  touch  these  finger-basins ; I’ll  just  go 
and  fetch  the  spring  itself.”  The  troll  can’t  afford  to 
lose  his  spring,  so  he  fetches  the  water  himself.  When 
the  porridge  was  ready,  the  lad  proposed  they  should 
eat  a match,  and  hanging  his  scrip  in  front  of  him, 
he  spooned  more  into  it  than  he  ate  himself.  At  last 
the  troll  is  quite  gorged  with  the  porridge  he  has 
supped,  upon  which  the  lad  tells  him  that  he  ought 
to  cut  a hole  in  his  paunch  as  he  had  done  (in  his 
scrip) ; and  being  assured  that  it  didn’t  hurt,  the  troll 
cut  his  paunch  open,  and  died  on  the  spot.^ 

The  Albanian  story  of  the  Bear  and  the  Dervish, 
already  cited,  presents  several  points  of  resemblance 
to  these  incidents  in  the  Norse  tale : A shepherd 
being  much  annoyed  by  a bear  that  devoured  five  or 
six  of  his  sheep  every  day,  a dervish  undertook  to  rid 
him  of  the  pest,  and,  having  obtained  of  the  shepherd 
three  skins  of  cream  cheese,  set  off  in  quest  of  the 
bear,  whom  he  soon  met,  when  they  began  each  to 
brag  of  his  own  strength.  ''  I’ll  crush  you  as  small  as 

^ See  Dasent’s  ‘ Popular  Tales  from  the  Norse  ’ ; also  Thorpe’s 
* Yule-Tide  Stories  ’ : “ The  Boy  who  contended  with  the  Giant  in 
Eating”  (Swedish  version),  pp.  245-249  of  Bohn’s  edition. 


138 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


this  stone/’  said  the  dervish,  at  the  same  time  slyly 
taking  a cheese  from  his  wallet,  and  crushing  it  into 
powder.  The  bear  tried  to  do  the  same  with  a stone, 
hut  failed,  so  he  deemed  it  prudent  to  make  friends 
with  such  a strong  man.  Supper-time  drawing  nigh, 
the  bear  proposed  to  the  dervish  that  he  should  go  and 
carry  off  an  ox,  while  he  went  for  wood.  ''  Get  an  ox 
for  yourself,”  quoth  the  dervish  indignantly ; nothing 
less  than  a lion  will  do  for  me.”  Admiring  his  friend’s 
prowess,  the  bear  went  and  got  an  ox : meanwhile  the 
dervish  had  gone  to  the  wood  and  tied  all  the  trees 
together,  and  when  the  bear  returned  he  was  astonished 
to  see  preparation  made  to  tear  up  the  whole  wood  at 
one  pull,  and  he  mildly  observed,  ''  One  or  two 
branches  will  be  quite  sufficient  for  us ; ” but  the 
dervish  said  superciliously,  ''That  isn’t  my  way — all 
or  none  ; you  may  take  one  or  two  branches,  if  that  is 
all  you  want.”  The  bear  took  two  branches,  and  while 
the  ox  was  being  roasted  the  dervish  went  for  water ; 
but  when  he  had  filled  the  skin  he  could  not  carry  it 
home,  so  he  sat  down  and  waited  till  the  bear  came, 
two  hours  after,  to  see  what  was  detaining  him.  " I 
am  considering,”  said  the  dervish,  " how  to  convey  this 
whole  rock  and  the  spring,  for  it  would  be  a disgrace 
for  such  a man  as  I am  to  carry  a skin  of  water.” 
Hearing  this,  the  bear  took  up  the  skin  and  carried  it 
home.  The  death  of  the  bear  was  not  brought  about 
in  the  same  manner  as  that  of  Jack’s  friend  the  two- 
headed  giant,  and  the  Lad’s  friend  the  Troll : After 
the  bear  had  wrestled  with  the  dervish,  and  hugged 


ADVENTURES  WITH  GIANTS,  TROLLS,  ETC.  139 

him  SO  that  his  eyes  were  starting  from  his  head,  but 
gave  up  when  he  heard  the  dervish  say  he  was  con- 
sidering on  which  side  he  had  better  throw  him ; and 
the  futile  attempt  to  kill  the  dervish  while  he  slept, 
as  already  related ; the  bear  requested  that  his  friend 
would  make  him  as  strong  as  himself.  ''  Quite  easy,’’ 
quoth  he;  ''a  skin  of  boiled  milk  is  all  you  need.” 
The  milk  is  boiled  in  a great  cauldron,  and  the  dervish 
told  the  bear  to  dip  his  hand  into  it  thrice : at  the 
third  dip  he  tumbled  the  bear  into  the  scalding  liquid, 
and  there  was  an  end  of  him. 

Similar  incidents  are  found  in  the  Sicilian  story  of 
the  Brave  Shoemaker  (Gonzenbach’s  collection),  'fhe 
hero  provides  himself  with  some  balls  of  plaster  of 
Paris  and  cream  cheese,  and  sets  off  to  kill  a fierce 
giant.  When  he  hears  the  giant  coming,  he  climbs 
into  a tree  ; but  the  giant,  having  scented  him,  orders 
him  to  come  down.  The  cobbler  replies  that  if  he 
does  not  leave  him  alone  he  will  wring  his  head  off ; 
and  as  a proof  of  his  strength,  he  crushes  the  balls  of 
plaster  of  Paris  between  his  hands,  telling  the  giant 
they  are  marble.  At  this  the  giant  is  frightened,  and 
invites  the  cobbler  to  his  house.  When  they  get 
there,  the  giant  asks  him  to  fetch  some  water  in  a 
pitcher  from  the  well,  and  the  cobbler  says  if  the  giant 
will  give  him  a strong  rope  he  will  bring  the  well 
itself.  The  giant,  in  terror,  takes  the  huge  pitcher 
and  draws  the  water  himself.  Then  the  giant  requests 
him  to  cut  some  wood,  but  the  hero  asks  him  for  a 
strong  rope  with  which  to  drag  the  whole  tree  to  the 


140 


POPULAK  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


house.  Next  the  giant  proposes  a trial  of  strength,  to 
see  which  could  carry  a heavy  stick  the  longer.  The 
cobbler  says  the  giant  had  better  wind  something 
about  the  thick  end,  for  when  he  (the  cobbler)  turned 
a somersault  with  it  he  might  hurt  the  giant.  When 
they  went  to  bed,  the  giant  made  the  cobbler  sleep 
with  him ; but  the  hero  crept  under  the  bed,  leaving 
a pumpkin  in  his  place.  The  giant,  who  was  anxious 
to  get  rid  of  the  cobbler,  took  an  iron  bar  and  struck  at 
the  pumpkin  all  night,  believing  it  to  be  the  cobbler’s 
head.  After  he  had  beaten  the  pumpkin  to  pieces, 
the  cobbler  under  the  bed  gave  a sigh.  What  is  the 
matter  with  you  ? ” asked  the  terrified  giant.  ''  A flea 
has  just  bitten  my  ear,”  replied  the  cobbler.  Next 
day  the  cobbler  proposed  to  the  giant  to  cook  a great 
pot  of  macaroni,  and  after  they  had  eaten  it,  he  would 
cut  open  his  stomach  to  show  that  he  had  eaten  with- 
out chewing  it ; the  giant  to  do  the  same  afterwards. 
The  cobbler,  of  course,  secretly  tied  a sack  about  his 
neck,  and  put  his  macaroni  in  it ; then  he  took  a knife 
and  ripped  open  the  bag,  and  the  macaroni  fell  out. 
The  giant,  in  attempting  to  follow  the  cobbler’s 
example,  killed  himself.  Then  the  cobbler  cut  his 
head  off,  carried  it  to  the  king,  and  obtained  his 
daughter’s  hand  in  marriage. 

In  a Milanese  story,  a cobbler,  being  tired  of  cob- 
bling, said  to  himself  one  day,  ‘'Now  I will  go  and 
seek  my  fortune.”  So  he  bought  a little  cheese,  and 
put  it  on  the  table.  It  got  full  of  flies,  so  he  took  an 
old  shoe  and  hit  the  cheese,  and  slew  the  flies.  Then 


ADVENTUKES  WITH  GIANTS,  TEOLLS,  ETC.  141 


he  counted  them,  and  found  500  were  killed  and  400 
wounded.  After  this  he  girded  on  a sword,  and  put 
on  a cocked  hat,  and  went  to  court,  and  said  to  the 
king,  I am  the  chief  of  warriors ; 500  have  I slain 
and  400  have  I wounded.’’  The  king  answered, 
''  Since  you  are  a warrior,  you  must  be  brave  enough 
to  climb  yonder  mountain,  where  there  are  two 
magicians,  and  kill  them.  If  you  do  so,  I shall  give 
you  my  daughter.”  Then  he  gave  him  a white  flag  to 
wave  when  he  had  killed  them.  ''  Sound  the  trumpet,” 
he  added,  ''  and  bring  me  the  heads  of  the  magicians 
in  a bag.”  So  the  cobbler  departed  and  came  to  an 
inn,  and  the  innkeeper  and  his  wife  were  none  other 
than  the  magicians.  He  asked  for  lodging  and  food 
and  all  he  needed.  Afterwards  he  went  to  his  room, 
but  before  going  to  bed  he  looked  at  the  ceiling,  and 
there  saw  a great  stone  over  the  bed.  Instead  of 
getting  into  the  bed,  he  got  into  a corner.  When  a 
certain  hour  struck,  the  magicians  let  the  stone  drop, 
and  it  crushed  the  whole  bed.  The  next  morning  the 
cobbler  went  down  and  said  he  could  not  sleep  for  the 
noise.  They  told  him  they  would  change  his  room. 
The  same  thing  happened  the  next  night,  and  in  the 
morning  they  told  him  they  would  give  him  another 
room.  When  it  was  a certain  hour  the  man  and  his 
wife  went  to  the  forest  to  cut  a bundle  of  faggots. 
Then  the  magician  went  home,  and  the  cobbler,  who 
had  made  ready  a sickle,  said,  ''Wait  until  I help  you 
to  take  the  bundle  off  your  back,”  and  gave  the  magi- 
cian a blow  with  the  sickle,  and  cut  off  his  head.  He 


142 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


did  the  same  thing  when  the  magician’s  wife  Teturned. 
Then  he  unfurled  his  flag,  and  sounded  his  trumpet, 
and  the  band  went  out  to  meet  him.  After  he  had 
arrived  at  court,  the  king  said  to  him,  ''  Now  that 
you  have  killed  the  two  magicians,  you  shall  marry 
my  daughter.”  But  the  cobbler  had  got  so  used  to 
drawing  the  thread  that  he  did  so  in  his  sleep,  and 
kept  hitting  his  wife  so  that  she  could  not  rest.  Then 
the  king  gave  him  a great  sum  of  money,  and  sent  him 
home.^ 

A Persian  legend,  related  by  the  Shah’s  own  story- 
teller to  Sir  John  Malcolm,  bears  a striking  resem- 
blance to  the  Norse  tale  of  the  Youth  and  the  Troll, 
as  well  as  to  our  nursery  tale.  Amin  of  Ispahan, 
when  he  meets  with  a ghul,^  has  in  his  pocket  an  egg 
and  a lump  of  salt.  He  tells  the  ghiil  that  he  has 
come  out  in  search  of  ghiils,  upon  whom  to  try  his 
strength  and  prowess.  The  ghiil  says,  ‘'You  don’t 
appear  to  be  very  strong.”  “ Perhaps  not,”  says  Amin, 
“ but  appearances  are  often  deceiving ; I will  give  you 
a proof  of  my  strength.  There,”  he  continued,  picking 
up  a stone,  “ this  contains  a fluid ; try  if  you  can 
squeeze  it  so  that  it  will  flow  out.”  The  ghiil  took  the 
stone,  but  after  a short  attempt  returned  it,  saying, 
“ It  is  impossible.”  “ Quite  easy,”  quoth  Amin,  taking 

1 ‘Italian  Popular  Tales.’  By  T.  F.  Crane  (London  : 1885),  p.  94ff. 

^ Ghuls  (commonly  written  ghouls)  are  a species  of  demons,  believed 
by  Muslims  to  feed  on  human  flesh,  and  to  have  the  power  of  assum- 
ing any  form  they  please,  to  decoy  unwary  travellers.  They  bear 
some  resemblance  to  our  ogres,  the  lamiae  of  the  Greeks,  and  to  the 
rdkshasas,  vetalas,  &c.  of  Indian  mythology. 


ADVENTURES  WITH  GIANTS,  TROLLS,  ETC. 


143 


the  stone  and  placing  it  in  the  hand  in  which  he  had 
before  put  the  egg ; ''  look  there  ! ’’  and  the  astonished 
ghiil,  while  he  heard  what  he  took  for  the  breaking  of 
the  stone,  saw  the  liquid  run  from  between  Amin’s 
fingers,  and  this  apparently  without  any  effort.  Aided 
by  the  darkness,  Amin  placed  the  stone  upon  the 
ground,  while  he  picked  up  another  of  darker  hue. 
''  This,”  said  he,  ''  I can  see  contains  salt,  as  you  will 
find  if  you  can  crumble  it  between  your  fingers.”  But 
the  ghiil,  looking  at  it,  confessed  he  had  neither  know- 
ledge to  discover  its  qualities  nor  strength  to  break 
it.  “ Give  it  me,”  said  Amin  impatiently,  and  having 
put  it  into  the  same  hand  with  the  piece  of  salt,  he 
instantly  gave  the  latter  all  crushed  to  the  ghiil,  who, 
seeing  it  reduced  to  powder,  tasted  it,  and  remained  in 
astonishment  at  the  skill  and  strength  of  the  wonder- 
ful man.  Amin  consents  to  stay  with  the  ghiil  all 
night.  His  grim  host  points  to  a bag  made  of  the 
hides  of  six  oxen,  and  bids  him  go  and  fill  it  with 
water,  while  he  makes  ready  a fire.  While  the  ghiil 
is  absent  in  search  of  faggots,  Amin  with  great 
difficulty  drags  the  bag  to  the  bank  of  a dark  stream 
which  issued  from  the  rocks  at  the  other  end  of  the 
cavern.  After  some  minutes’  reflection  he  thought  of 
a plan,  and  began  digging  a small  channel  from  the 
stream  towards  the  place  where  supper  was  being 
prepared.  “ What  are  you  doing  ? ” shouted  the  ghiil, 
as  he  advanced  towards  him.  I sent  you  for  water 
to  boil  a little  rice,  and  you  have  been  almost  an  hour. 
Cannot  you  fill  the  bag  and  bring  it  away  ?”  ''  Certainly 


144 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


I can/'  said  Amin.  If  I were  content,  after  all  your 
kindness,  to  show  my  gratitude  merely  by  feats  of 
brute  strength,  I could  lift  your  stream  if  you  had  a 
bag  as  large  as  could  hold  it ; but  here,"  said  he,  point- 
ing to  the  channel  he  had  begun — ''  here  is  the  com- 
mencement of  a work  in  which  the  mind  of  man  is 
employed  to  lessen  the  labour  of  the  body.  This  canal, 
small  as  it  may  appear,  will  carry  a stream  to  the  other 
end  of  the  cave,  in  which  I will  construct  a dam  that 
you  can  open  or  shut  at  pleasure,  and  thereby  save 
yourself  infinite  trouble  in  fetching  water.  But,  pray, 
let  me  alone  till  it  is  finished,"  and  resumed  his  digging. 

Nonsense,"  said  the  ghul,  seizing  the  bag  and  filling 
it ; ''I  will  carry  the  water  myself : and  I advise  you 
to  leave  off  your  canal,  as  you  call  it,  and  follow  me, 
that  you  may  eat  your  supper  and  get  to  sleep.  You 
may  finish  this  fine  work,  if  you  like,  to-morrow  morn- 
ing." . . . Amfn  places  a large  pillow  in  the  middle  of 
his  bed,  to  make  it  appear  as  if  he  was  still  there,  and 
retires  to  a concealed  part  of  the  cavern  to  watch  the 
proceedings  of  the  ghiil.  The  latter  awoke  a short 
time  before  daylight,  and,  without  making  any  noise, 
went  towards  Amin’s  bed,  where,  not  observing  the 
least  stir,  he  was  satisfied  that  his  guest  was  in  a deep 
sleep ; so  he  took  one  of  his  walking-sticks,  which  was 
in  size  like  the  trunk  of  a tree,  and  struck  a terrible 
blow  at  what  he  supposed  to  be  his  head.  He  smiled 
at  not  hearing  even  a groan,  thinking  he  had  killed 
him  outright ; but  to  make  sure  he  repeated  the  blow 
seven  times.  He  then  returned  to  rest,  but  had  hardly 


ADVENTUKES  WITH  GIANTS,  TKOLLS,  ETC.  145 

settled  himself  to  sleep  when  Amm,  who  had  crept 
into  bed,  raised  his  head  above  the  clothes,  and  ex- 
claimed, “ Friend  ghul,  what  insect  could  it  be  that  has 
disturbed  me  by  its  tapping  ? I counted  the  flap  of  its 
little  wings  seven  times  on  the  coverlet.  These  vermin 
are  very  annoying,  for,  though  they  cannot  hurt  a man, 
they  disturb  his  rest.”  The  ghuTs  dismay  at  hearing 
Amm  speak  at  all  was  great,  but  that  was  increased  to 
perfect  fright  when  he  heard  him  describe  seven  blows, 
any  one  of  which  would  have  felled  an  elephant,  as 
seven  flaps  of  an  insect’s  wing.  There  was  no  safety, 
he  thought,  near  so  wonderful  a man;  and  he  soon 
afterwards  arose  and  fled  from  the  cave,  leaving  Amm 
its  sole  master.  Having  armed  himself  with  a match- 
lock, which  had  belonged  to  some  victim  of  the  ghiil, 
Amm  proceeded  to  survey  the  road.  He  had,  however, 
only  gone  a short  distance  when  he  saw  the  ghiil 
returning  with  a large  club  in  his  hand,  and  accom- 
panied by  a fox.  Amin’s  knowledge  of  the  cunning 
animal  instantly  led  him  to  suspect  that  it  had  un- 
deceived his  enemy,  but  his  presence  of  mind  did  not 
forsake  him.  ''  Take  that,”  said  he  to  the  fox,  aiming 
a ball  at  him  from  his  matchlock  and  shooting  him 
through  the  head — ''  take  that,  for  your  not  performing 
my  orders.  That  brute,”  he  said  then  to  the  glnil, 
‘'promised  to  bring  me  seven  ghuls,  that  I might 
chain  them  and  carry  them  to  Ispahan,  and  here  he 
has  only  brought  you,  who  are  already  my  slave.”  So 
saying,  he  advanced  towards  the  ghul ; but  the  latter 
had  already  taken  flight,  and  by  the  aid  of  his  club 
VOL.  I. 


K 


146  POPULAE  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 

bounded  so  rapidly  over  rocks  and  precipices,  that  he 
was  soon  out  of  sight.^ 

The  motif  of  all  stories  of  this  character  is  the  supe- 
riority of  intelligence  to  mere  physical  strength : the 
monsters  that  are  tricked  by  clever  little  folks,  whether 
giants,  trolls,  ogres,  bears,  lions,  or  tigers,^  are  invari- 
ably represented  as  being  extremely  stupid  and  credu- 
lous. In  Steel  and  Temple’s  ' Wide-Awake  Stories  ’ 
there  is  a Kashmiri  tale  (which  also  occurs  in  the 
' Suka  Saptati,’  or  Seventy  Tales  of  a Parrot,  a San- 
skrit collection),  of  which  the  catastrophe  is  similar  to 
that  of  the  Persian  story  of  Amin  and  the  Ghiil,  last 
cited,  and  also  finds  parallels  in  European  folk-lore  : 
One  day  a farmer  went  to  his  field  to  plough  with  his 
bullocks.  He  had  just  yoked  them  when  a tiger 
walked  up  to  him  and  saluted  him;  the  farmer  re- 
turned the  salute,  when  the  tiger  said  that  the  Lord 
had  sent  him  to  eat  his  two  bullocks.  The  farmer 
promised  that  he  would  bring  him  a fine  milch-cow 
instead.  But  his  wife  objected,  and,  putting  on  the 
farmer’s  best  clothes,  set  off,  man-fashion,  on  the  pony 
to  where  the  tiger  was  waiting.  She  called  out,  “I 
hope  I may  find  a tiger  in  this  field,  for  I have  not 
tasted  tiger’s  flesh  since  the  day  before  yesterday, 
when  I killed  three.”  The  tiger,  on  hearing  this, 
turned  tail  and  fled  into  the  jungle,  where  he  met  a 
jackal,  who  asked  him  why  he  ran  so  fast,  and  was 


^ Malcolm’s  ‘ Sketches  of  Persia,’  ch.  xvi. 

2 In  fairy  tales  animals  which  play  the  parts  of  ogres  and  giants  are 
simply  the  latter  in  other  forms. 


ADVENTUEES  WITH  GIANTS,  TEOLLS,  ETC. 


147 


told  that  a tiger-eating  demon  was  after  him.  The 
jackal  tells  him  that  it  is  only  a woman ; but  the  tiger 
is  still  afraid,  and  the  jackal  and  he  knot  their  tails 
together,  in  order  that  one  should  not  escape  at  the 
other’s  expense.  When  the  woman  sees  them  she 
calls  out  to  the  jackal,  ''  This  is  very  kind  of  you  to 
bring  me  such  a fat  tiger ; but,  considering  how  many 
tigers  there  are  in  your  father’s  house,  I think  you 
might  have  brought  me  two.”  The  tiger,  more  fright- 
ened than  before,  ran  off,  dragging  the  jackal  after 
him,  and  the  officious  jackal  was  killed  by  being 
bumped  against  the  stones.^ 

The  same  plan  is  adopted  to  frighten  a dragon  in 
No.  23  of  Hahn’s  modern  Greek  stories : Lazarus 
the  Cobbler  having  one  fine  day  actually  killed  forty 
flies  with  a single  blow,  he  made  for  himself  a sword 
on  which  he  wrote  Forty  at  a blow,”  and  set  off  in 
quest  of  warlike  adventures.  He  meets  a dragon,  who, 
reading  these  words,  asked  Lazarus  to  make  friends 
with  him,  and  introduces  him  to  a number  of  other 

^ A variant  of  this  is  found  in  the  Chinese  tales  and  fables  appended 
to  M.  Stanislas  Julien’s  French  rendering  of  the  ‘Avadanas,’  in  which 
a tiger  having  seized  a monkey  was  about  to  devour  him,  when  the 
monkey,  bethinking  himself  of  some  means  of  escape,  suggested  that 
he  was  too  small  to  make  a good  meal  for  a tiger,  and  offered  to  con- 
duct his  captor  to  a neighbouring  hill  where  a far  more  noble  prey 
might  be  captured.  This  was  a stag  who,  rightly  assuming  that  the 
tiger  had  come  for  a most  unfriendly  purpose,  concluded  that  his  only 
chance  was  to  put  a bold  face  upon  the  matter,  and  accordingly 
addressed  the  monkey  as  follows  : “ How  is  this  ? You  promised  me 
ten  tiger-skins,  but  you  have  only  brought  one — you  still  owe  me 
nine.”  The  tiger  on  hearing  this  became  alarmed,  and  instantly 
decamped,  saying  that  he  never  thought  the  monkey  would  be  so 
treacherous. — See  also  my  ‘Book  of  Sindibdd,’  pp.  70,  71. 


148 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


dragons,  who,  being  afraid  of  his  prowess,  give  him 
much  gold  to  go  away.  The  first  dragon  meets  a fox, 
who  undeceives  him  as  to  the  pretended  strength  and 
courage  of  Lazarus,  and  the  better  to  convince  him, 
offers  to  conduct  him  to  the  cobbler.  But  when  they 
come  up  with  him,  Lazarus,  nothing  daunted,  cries  to 
the  fox,  I told  you  to  bring  me  all  the  dragons,  and 
you  have  only  brought  one,”  upon  which  the  dragon 
scoured  off,  in  terror  for  his  life. 

Another  adventure  with  a stupid  tiger — a substi- 
tute for  the  trolls  and  giants  of  Northern  folk-lore — 
is  related  in  the  Santali  story  of  two  brothers,  Kauran 
and  Guja,  translated  by  the  Eev.  F.  F.  Cole,  in  the 
' Indian  Antiquary,'  voL  iv. : The  brothers  were  in  the 
jungle  one  day,  as  usual,  for  the  purpose  of  digging  up 
roots,  on  which  they  subsisted.  They  came  to  a tiger’s 
den,  and  offered  him  some  pieces  of  charcoal,  pretend- 
ing they  were  roots,  and  that  they  had  kept  the  half- 
roasted  ones  to  themselves.  The  tiger  asks  them  a 
riddle : One  I will  eat  for  breakfast,  and  another  like 
it  for  supper.”  They  answer,  Oh,  uncle,  we  cannot 
tell ; but  we  will  ask  you  another  riddle : One  will 
twist  the  tail  and  another  the  ear.”  Hearing  this,  the 
tiger  gets  into  a great  fright,  and  is  about  to  make  his 
escape,  when  Kauran  seizes  his  tail,  which  in  the 
ensuing  struggle  is  wrenched  off.  The  tiger  runs 
away  in  search  of  his  tiger-friends,  and  comes  back 
with  a whole  host  of  them  to  the  tree  up  which 
the  brothers  have  escaped.  The  tailless  tiger  pro- 
poses that  they  should  stand  one  on  another  till  they 


ADVENTURES  WITH  GIANTS,  TROLLS,  ETC.  149 

are  high  enough  to  reach  the  brothers,  which  is  done ; 
but  in  the  meantime  Kauran  calls  to  his  brother, 
''  Give  me  the  axe,  and  I will  kill  the  tailless  tiger.” 
The  latter,  in  great  terror,  struggled  to  make  his 
escape,  and  in  so  doing  upset  the  whole  party,  who 
were  resting  upon  him,  while  they  in  their  fall  crushed 
the  poor  tailless  tiger  to  death,  and,  overcome  by 
terror,  fled  out  of  sight. 

The  concluding  incident  in  the  story  of  the  Stupid 
Wolf,  No.  18  of  Leger's  collection  of  Slav  tales,  is  to 
the  same  effect:  The  wolf,  after  many  attempts  to 
satisfy  his  hunger,  and  getting  nothing  but  kicks  and 
blows  till  he  could  scarcely  crawl,  meets  with  a tailor, 
and  tells  him  that  he  has  been  sent  by  the  Lord  to  eat 
him.  ''  What  are  you,  who  are  going  to  eat  me  ? ” 
asked  the  tailor.  A wolf.”  ''  You  lie : you’re  only  a 
dog;  you’re  too  small  for  a wolf.  Let  me  measure 
you.”  So  saying,  he  seized  the  wolf  by  the  tail,  and 
turning  him  round  in  his  hand,  stretched  him  out  till 
the  wolf  was  out  of  breath,  and  his  tail  came  off. 

You’re  an  archine  ^ long,”  said  the  tailor.  Over- 
whelmed with  grief,  the  wolf  escaped  and  went  to  his 
wolf-friends,  to  whom  he  related  his  misadventures, 
and  they  all  set  off  after  the  tailor.  When  he  saw 
them  coming  he  climbed  into  a tree.  “ Brothers,”  said 
the  stupid  wolf,  “ I’ll  stand  upright  against  the  tree ; do 
you  mount  one  after  the  other  upon  me,  making  a 
staircase,  and  we  shall  take  vengeance  on  that  rascal  1 ” 
So  they  got  up,  one  upon  the  other.  Ah,  ah  ! ” cried 


1 Russian  measure  : 70  centimetres. 


150 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


the  highest,  “ wicked  tailor,  weVe  come  to  eat  you ! ” 

Little  dears — my  friends,”  said  the  tailor,  ''  have  pity 
upon  me,  and  don’t  eat  me  ! ” “ No,  no,  come  down.” 

One  moment ; allow  me  at  least  to  take  a pinch  of 
snuff.”  So  he  took  a pinch  and  sneezed,  atchi  ! atcJii  ! 
The  noodle,  who  was  lowermost,  imagined  he  said 
archine,  archine,  and  that  he  was  going  to  measure  the 
wolves.  Terror  overcame  him ; off  he  set,  down  tum- 
bled the  wolves,  who  ran  after  him  and  tore  him  to 
pieces.  So  the  tailor,  having  thus  escaped,  came  down 
from  the  tree  and  went  home. 

The  story  of  the  Brave  Little  Tailor,  in  Grimm’s 
collection,  has  incidents  in  common  with  several  of 
those  already  cited  of  the  tricking  of  monsters.  The 
little  tailor,  having  dashed  a cloth  among  a swarm  of 
flies  and  killed  no  fewer  than  seven  of  them,  believed 
himself  a man  of  great  prowess,  and  resolved  to  go 
into  the  world  and  turn  it  to  good  account ; ^ so  off  he 
went,  wearing  a girdle  on  which  he  had  embroidered 
the  device,  Seven  at  a blow.”  He  meets  a giant, 
and,  pointing  to  his  girdle,  would  persuade  him  that 
he  was  possessed  of  supernatural  strength.  The  giant 
takes  up  a stone  and  squeezes  it  till  water  exudes 
from  it.  The  tailor  in  his  turn  takes  a soft  cheese  from 
his  wallet,  and  makes  the  whey  run  out  of  it.  Then 
the  giant  throws  a stone  up  into  the  air  so  far  that  it 
went  out  of  sight ; upon  which  the  tailor  takes  a live 
bird  from  his  wallet  and  lets  it  go,  and  the  giant  be- 

^ Like  the  cobbler  in  the  Italian  (Milanese)  story  cited  p.  140. 


ADVENTUKES  WITH  GIANTS,  TEOLLS,  ETC.  151 

lieves  it  was  a stone.  Once  more  the  giant  would  test 
the  little  man’s  strength : he  bids  him  help  to  carry  a 
great  tree,  and  the  tailor  saying  that  he  will  take  the 
end  which  has  the  branches,  as  being  the  heaviest,  so 
soon  as  the  giant  has  raised  the  root-end  of  the  tree 
on  to  his  shoulder,  our  hero  slyly  seats  himself  in  the 
branches,  and  the  giant  staggers  beneath  his  burden 
till  he  is  forced  to  lay  it  down,  quite  exhausted.  The 
little  tailor  then  goes  home  with  the  giant,  and  at 
night,  instead  of  going  to  bed,  creeps  into  a snug 
corner,  and  the  giant,  intending  to  kill  him,  lays  on 
the  bed  with  an  iron  bar  and  breaks  the  bed:  in 
the  morning,  when  he  finds  the  tailor  unhurt,  he  flies 
off  in  a fright.  The  king,  hearing  of  his  prowess,  sends 
him  to  kill  two  giants  that  were  the  terror  of  his  sub- 
jects : he  finds  them  both  asleep  beneath  a tree ; so 
filling  his  pocket  with  great  stones,  he  climbs  into  the 
branches,  and  drops  the  stones  on  them,  which  causes 
them  to  awake;  and  each  supposing  the  other  had 
struck  at  him  while  he  slept,  they  fell  to  blows  and 
soon  killed  each  other,  and  the  brave  little  tailor  was 
credited  with  having  rid  the  country  of  the  two  monsters. 
His  next  exploit  was  encountering  a fierce  unicorn : 
the  animal,  on  seeing  him,  made  a rush  to  destroy  him 
on  the  spot ; but  our  hero  jumped  behind  a tree,  and 
the  unicorn,  running  at  it  full  force,  stuck  his  horn 
deep  into  the  trunk,  so  that  he  could  not  withdraw 
it,  on  which  the  little  tailor  broke  off  the  horn  and  led 
the  unicorn  into  the  king’s  presence.  After  an  ad- 


152 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


venture  with  a wild  boar,  the  little  tailor  is  married  to 
the  daughter  of  the  king.^ 

In  a Chilian  version  (of  Spanish  extraction),  a shoe- 
maker having  killed  seven  flies  with  his  fist  one  day, 
dubs  himself,  Don  Juan  Bolondron, — killer-of-seven- 
with-one-fisticuff.  The  king  sends  him  off  to  slay  a 
ferocious  boar  that  had  killed  many  people.  When 
Juan  sees  the  boar,  he  runs  back  to  the  palace  and 
hides  behind  the  outer  door.  The  beast  runs  after  him 
into  the  courtyard,  and  is  shot  by  the  soldiers.  J uan 
then  comes  forth,  goes  to  the  king,  and  says,  ''I  not 
only  wanted  to  kill  the  boar,  but  had  brought  him  here 
alive  so  that  you  might  see  him,  and  these  soldiers  of 
yours  have  shot  him.”  The  king  praises  his  prowess, 
and  marries  him  to  the  princess.^ 

The  two  last-cited  stories  may  be  compared  with 
the  Kashmiri  tale  of  Fattu  Khan,  the  Valiant  Weaver, 
in  Steel  and  Temple’s  ‘Wide-Awake  Stories.’  Fattii 
killed  a mosquito  one  day,  just  as  he  was  throwing  the 
shuttle  with  his  right  hand.  Being  elated  with  his 
skill  and  bravery,  he  goes  out  to  see  the  world,  with 
his  bundle,  his  shuttle,  and  a great  loaf  tied  up  in  a 
kerchief.  He  reaches  a city  where  a dreadful  ele- 
phant came  daily  to  make  a meal  of  one  of  the  in- 
habitants, against  which  many  mighty  warriors  had 

1 Most  of  the  incidents  in  the  German  tale  of  the  Valiant  Tailor 
and  in  the  Norse  tale  of  the  Lad  and  the  Troll  reappear  in  the  Gaelic 
story  of  Mac-a-Rusgaich ; Campbell’s  ^ Popular  Tales  of  the  West  High- 
lands,’ vol.  i.  p.  307. 

2 ‘‘  Chilian  Popular  Tales,”  by  Thomas  M.  Moore.  ‘ Folk-Lore 
Journal,’  vol.  hi.  p.  299. 


ADVENTURES  WITH  GIANTS,  TROLLS,  ETC.  153 

gone  out,  but  none  of  them  ever  returned.  Hearing 
this,  the  valiant  little  man  said  to  himself,  Now  is 
my  chance ! To  a man  who  has  killed  a mosquito 
with  one  blow  of  a shuttle,  an  elephant  is  mere  child’s 
play.”  So  he  went  to  the  king,  and  announced  that 
he  was  ready  single-handed  to  slay  the  elephant.  The 
king  naturally  thought  he  was  mad ; but  when  he  per- 
sisted in  his  offer,  he  told  him  he  was  free  to  try  his 
luck.  So  at  the  hour  when  the  elephant  usually  ap- 
peared, Fattii  Khan  went  out  to  meet  him,  armed 
with  his  shuttle.  ''  It  is  a weapon  I understand,”  said 
he  to  those  who  urged  him  to  take  a spear  or  a bow  ; 
“ and  it  has  done  work  in  its  time,  I assure  you.”  It 
was  a fine  sight  to  see  Fattii  Khan  strutting  out  to 
kill  the  elephant,  whilst  the  townspeople  gathered  in 
crowds  on  the  walls ; but  alas  for  the  valiant  little 
weaver ! No  sooner  did  he  see  the  elephant  charging 
down  on  him  than  all  his  courage  oozed  away.  He 
forgot  that  he  was  Fattii  Khan,  dropped  his  bundle, 
his  bread,  and  his  shuttle,  and  bolted  away  as  hard 
as  his  legs  would  carry  him.  Now  it  so  happened  that 
Fattii’ s wife  had  made  the  bread  sweet  and  had  put 
spices  into  it,  as  she  wanted  to  hide  the  taste  of  the 
poison  she  had  used  with  it, — for  she  was  a wicked  and 
revengeful  woman,  and  wanted  to  get  rid  of  her  tire- 
some, whimsical  little  husband.  The  elephant,  as  he 
charged  past,  smelt  the  spices,  and  catching  up  the 
bread  with  his  trunk,  gobbled  it  down  without  stopping 
a moment.  Poor  Fattii  scuttled  away  ever  so  fast, 
but  the  elephant  overtook  him.  Then  the  little 


154 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


weaver,  in  sheer  desperation,  tried  to  double,  and  in 
doing  so  ran  full  tilt  against  the  beast.  As  luck 
would  have  it,  just  at  that  moment  the  poison  took 
effect,  and  the  elephant  fell  to  the  ground  dead.  Now 
when  the  spectators  who  thronged  the  city  walls  saw 
the  monster  fall,  they  could  scarcely  believe  their  eyes  ; 
but  they  were  more  astonished  when  they  ran  up  and 
found  little  Fattii  sitting  quietly  on  the  elephant’s 
dead  body,  and  wiping  his  face  with  his  handkerchief. 
“ I just  gave  him  a push,”  said  he  modestly,  ''and  he 
fell  down.  Elephants  are  big  brutes,  but  they  have  no 
strength  to  speak  of.”  The  king  makes  Fattii  com- 
mander-in-chief of  his  army,  and  he  undertakes  to  kill 
a fierce  tiger  that  ranged  the  country.  On  seeing  the 
tiger  he  climbed  a tree,  and  the  tiger  waited  for  him  for 
seven  days.  Fattii  tried  to  slip  away  one  day  while 
the  tiger  was  taking  his  noontide  snooze.  The  tiger 
jumps  up  with  a roar,  and  Fattu’s  dagger  falls  down 
and  enters  the  tiger’s  mouth,  and  kills  him.  After 
this  the  king  gives  him  his  daughter  — as  usual,  in 
this  cycle  of  stories — and  very  properly,  since  " none 
but  the  brave  deserve  the  fair  ” ! 


155 


DRAGONS  AND  MONSTROUS  BIRDS. 

T?EOM  giants  and  ghiils  to  dragons  and  basilisks  the 
transition  is  easy ; indeed  they  are  all  simply 
personifications  of  natural  phenomena,  if  we  adopt 
the  theory  that  such  tales  or  legends  are  survivals 
of  primitive  Aryan  (solar)  myths.  The  best-known 
dragon-story  in  Europe  is  probably  that  of  St  George, 
which  is  thus  related  in  the  ' Legenda  Aurea,’  or  Golden 
Legend,  of  Jacques  de  Voragine: 

St  George,  a tribune,  was  born  in  Cappadocia,  and 
came  to  Lybia  to  a town  called  Silene,  near  which 
was  a pond  infested  by  a monster  which  had  many 
times  driven  back  an  armed  host  that  had  come  to 
destroy  him.  He  even  approached  the  walls  of  the 
city,  and  with  his  exhalations  poisoned  all  who  were 
near.  To  avoid  such  visits,  he  was  furnished  each 
day  with  two  sheep  to  satisfy  his  voracity.  If  these 
were  not  given,  he  so  attacked  the  walls  of  the  town 
that  his  envenomed  breath  infected  the  air,  and  many 
of  the  inhabitants  died.  He  was  supplied  with  sheep 
till  they  were  exhausted,  and  it  was  impossible  to  pro- 


156 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


cure  the  necessary  number.  Then  the  citizens  held 
counsel,  and  it  was  decided  that  each  day  a man  and 
a beast  should  be  offered,  so  that  at  last  they  gave  up 
their  children,  sons  and  daughters — none  were  spared. 

The  lot  fell  one  day  on  the  princess.  The  monarch, 
horror-struck,  offered  in  exchange  for  her  his  gold,  his 
silver,  and  half  his  realm,  only  desiring  to  save  his 
daughter  from  this  frightful  death.  But  the  people 
insisted  on  the  sacrifice  of  the  maiden,  and  all  the  poor 
father  could  obtain  was  a delay  of  eight  days  in  which 
to  bewail  the  fate  of  the  damsel.  At  the  expiration  of 
this  time  the  people  returned  to  the  palace  and  said. 
Why  do  you  sacrifice  your  subjects  for  your  daughter? 
We  are  all  dying  before  the  breath  of  this  monster.” 
The  king  felt  that  he  must  resolve  on  parting  with  his 
child.  He  covered  her  with  royal  clothes,  embraced 
her,  and  said,  ''  Alas,  dear  daughter,  I thought  to  have 
seen  myself  re-born  at  your  wedding ; to  have  adorned 
you  with  royal  garments,  and  accompanied  you  with 
flutes  and  tambourines  and  all  kinds  of  music ! Why 
did  I not  die  before  you  ? ” Then  she  fell  at  her 
father’s  feet  and  besought  his  blessing.  He  accorded 
it  her,  weeping,  and  he  clasped  her  tenderly  in  her 
arms.  Then  she  went  to  the  lake. 

George,  who  passed  that  way,  saw  her  weeping,  and 
asked  the  cause  of  her  tears.  She  replied,  Good 
youth,  quickly  mount  your  horse  and  fly,  lest  you 
perish  with  me  ! ” But  George  said  to  her,  ''  Do  not 
fear.  Tell  me  what  you  await,  and  why  all  this  mul- 
titude look  on  ? ” She  answered,  ''  I see  that  you 


DRAGONS  AND  MONSTROUS  BIRDS. 


157 


have  a great  and  noble  heart ; yet  fly  ! ‘'I  shall  not 
go  without  knowing  the  cause/’  he  replied.  Then  she 
explained  all  to  him,  whereupon  he  exclaimed,  ''  Fear 
nothing;  in  the  name  of  Jesus  Christ,  I will  assist 
you  1 ” ''  Brave  knight  1 ” said  she,  do  not  seek  to 

die  with  me.  Enough  that  I should  perish,  for  you 
can  neither  assist  nor  deliver  me,  and  you  will  only 
die  with  me.” 

At  this  moment  the  monster  arose  above  the  sur- 
face of  the  water,  and  the  virgin  said,  all  trembling, 
"‘Fly,  fly.  Sir  Knight!”  His  only  answer  was  the 
sign  of  the  cross.  Then  he  advanced  to  meet  the 
monster,  recommending  himself  to  God.  He  bran- 
dished his  lance  with  such  force  that  he  transfixed  it 
and  cast  it  to  the  ground.  Then  addressing  the  prin- 
cess, he  bade  her  pass  her  girdle  round  it,  and  fear 
nothing.  When  this  was  done,  the  monster  followed 
like  a docile  hound.  When  they  had  brought  it  into 
the  town,  the  people  fled  before  it ; but  George  recalled 
them,  bidding  them  put  aside  all  fear,  for  the  Lord  had 
sent  him  to  deliver  them  from  the  dragon.  Then  the 
king  and  all  his  people,  twenty  thousand  men,  with- 
out counting  women  and  children,  were  baptised,  and 
George  smote  off  the  head  of  the  monster.^ 


^ Baring- Gould’s  ‘Curious  Myths  of  the  Middle  Ages,’pp.  297-299. 
This  legend,  according  to  Mr  Baring-Gould,  is  a solar  myth.  “ The 
maiden,”  he  says,  “ which  the  dragon  attempts  to  devour  is  the  earth ; 
the  monster  is  the  storm-cloud ; the  hero  who  fights  it  is  the  sun, 
with  his  glorious  sword,  the  lightning-flash.”  But  he  does  not  con- 
descend to  explain  the  signification  of  the  men  and  beasts  which  the 
dragon  had  devoured  previously. 


158 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


This  renowned  exploit  of  the  saint  of  Cappadocia 
has  its  analogue  in  the  legend  of  Perseus  and  Andro- 
meda: Cassiope  having  boasted  that  she  was  fairer 
than  the  Nereides,  Neptune,  at  their  request,  sent  a 
sea-monster  to  ravage  Ethiopia,  the  country  of  Cepheus, 
her  husband.  An  oracle  declared  that  the  wrath  of 
Neptune  could  only  be  appeased  by  exposing  their 
daughter  Andromeda  to  the  fury  of  the  monster,  and 
she  was  accordingly  chained  to  a rock  on  the  sea- 
shore ; but  just  as  the  dragon  was  advancing  to  devour 
the  damsel,  Perseus  appeared,  and  plunging  his  dagger 
in  the  monster’s  right  shoulder,  destroyed  it. 

Legends  such  as  these  seem  to  have  been  common 
in  both  European  and  Asiatic  countries  from  very 
ancient  times.  In  the  Danish  ballad  of  ''  Svend  Fold- 
ing’s Kamp  med  Eisen,”  Svend  is  described  as  going 
on  a pilgrimage  to  Eome,  and  on  his  way  arriving  at 
a city  called  Hovdingo,  the  princess  of  which  informs 
him  that  the  land  is  being  made  desolate  by  a giant, 
who  feeds  only  on  women  and  maidens.  Svend  under- 
takes to  encounter  the  monster,  and  a number  of 
horses  are  led  forth  that  he  may  select  one  qualified 
to  bear  him  in  the  ensuing  combat.  The  hero,  of 
course,  kills  the  giant.^  So,  too,  in  Ealston’s  ' Eussian 
Polk-Tales’  Ivan  Popyalof  eircounters  and  slays  a 
formidable  serpent  that  had  long  devastated  the 
country. 

In  No.  14  of  M.  Dozon’s  Albanian  Tales,  a lamia 

1 See  Thorpe’s  ‘ Yule-Tide  Stories,’  p.  344,  Bohn’s  ed. 


DEAGONS  AND  MONSTEOUS  BIEDS. 


159 


(or  ogress)  comes  to  a city  once  a year  and  devours 
many  people.  A damsel,  disguised  as  a soldier,  arrives 
just  as  the  king  is  preparing  to  deliver  up  his  son  to 
the  lamia,  for  she  would  not  promise  to  stay  away 
unless  she  was  regaled  on  royal  flesh.  The  damsel 
slays  the  lamia  with  one  stroke  of  her  sword,  and  the 
king,  after  some  demur,  rewards  the  supposed  soldier 
with  a wonderful  horse,  which  plays  an  important 
part  in  the  sequel. — A similar  legend  is  known  to  the 
Chinese,  according  to  Dr  Dennys,  in  which  it  is  related 
that  a huge  dragon  devoured  a maiden  once  every 
year,  and  the  youngest  of  a magistrate’s  six  daughters 
went  off  and  successfully  encountered  the  monster  with 
a good  sword  and  a dog.^ 

The  slaying  of  dragons  forms  the  subject  of  many 
Arabian  and  Persian  tales.  In  the  story  of  the  King 
of  Yemen  and  his  Three  Sons — one  of  the  additional 
stories  translated  by  Jonathan  Scott,  in  vol.  vi.  of  his 
edition  of  the  'Arabian  Nights’ — we  are  told  of  a 
dragon  which  on  a certain  day  came  to  the  city  and 
demanded  a beautiful  virgin  to  be  given  up  to  him. 
The  lot  having  fallen  upon  the  king’s  daughter,  the 
hero  kills  the  monster,  and  is  rewarded  with  the  hand 
of  the  princess.  Among  the  innumerable  exploits 
ascribed  to  the  Persian  king  Bahram-i-Ghur  (i.e.,  of 
the  Wild  Ass)  is  his  slaying,  single-handed,  an  enor- 
mous elephant  in  India  — whither  he  had  gone  in 

1 ‘ Folk-Lore  in  China,  and  its  Affinities  with  that  of  the  Aryan 
and  Semitic  Races,’  by  N.  B.  Dennys,  Ph.D.  Hon g- Kong  : 1876. 


160 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


disguise — which  had  kept  the  inhabitants  in  a state  of 
terror,  and  taken  possession  of  the  road  between  the 
jungle  it  inhabited  and  the  city.  And  in  Kashmiri 
folk-lore,  two  brothers,  sons  of  a king,  being  ill-used 
by  their  step-mother,  go  abroad  to  seek  their  fortunes. 
The  younger  prince,  having  accidentally  separated  from 
his  brother,  comes  to  a cottage,  where  he  finds  a poor 
old  woman  evidently  in  great  sorrow.  She  informs 
him  that  in  the  neighbourhood  there  was  a fierce 
rakshasa  (a  species  of  demon)  who  every  day  com- 
pelled the  inhabitants  of  the  town  to  supply  him  with 
one  cake,  one  goat,  and  one  young  man ; and  that  the 
lot  had  at  last  fallen  upon  her  only  son.  The  prince 
undertakes  to  confront  the  rakshasa ; and  having  ob- 
tained from  the  poor  woman  a cake  of  much  greater 
size  than  usual,  and  the  fattest  goat  she  could  select, 
he  goes  boldly  to  meet  the  monster,  who,  after  gorging 
himself  with  the  cake  and  the  goat,  falls  asleep,  when 
the  prince  cuts  off  his  head.^ 

Indian  fiction  teems  with  similar  incidents — gene- 
rally encounters  with  rakshasas.  There  is  a notable 
instance  in  the  ' Katha  Sarit  Sagara  ’ : Indivarasena  re- 
ceived from  the  goddess  Durga  a sword,  by  the  power 
of  which  he  should  conquer  all  enemies,  and  whatever 
he  should  think  of  he  should  obtain,  and  by  means 
of  it  gain  the  success  he  desired.^  Thus  armed,  he 

^ Steel  and  Temple’s  ‘ Wide-Awake  Stories,’  from  the  Pan  jab  and 
Kashmir. — See  also  Temple’s  ‘ Legends  of  the  Panjab,’  vol.  i.  p.  17fF. 

2 Here  we  have  a ivishing  as  well  as  an  all- conquering  sword. 


DRAGONS  AND  MONSTROUS  BIRDS. 


161 


journeyed  onward,  accompanied  by  his  brother.  The 
story  goes  on  thus  : 

After  he  had  travelled  a long  distance  he  found  a 
great  and  splendid  city,  looking  like  the  peak  of  Meru, 
on  account  of  its  golden  houses.  There  he  beheld  a 
terrible  rakshasa  standing  at  the  gate  of  the  high 
street,  and  the  hero  asked  him  what  was  the  name  of 
the  town,  and  who  was  its  king.  That  rakshasa  said, 
''  This  city  is  called  Sailapura,  and  it  is  possessed  by 
our  lord  Yamadanshtra,  the  slayer  of  his  foes,  king 
of  the  rakshasas.’’  When  the  rakshasa  said  this, 
Indivarasena  attempted  to  enter,  in  order  to  slay 
Yamadanshtra,  but  the  rakshasa  at  the  door  tried  to 
prevent  him,  upon  which  the  mighty  Indivarasena 
killed  him,  cutting  off  his  head  with  one  stroke  of  his 
sword.  After  slaying  him,  the  hero  entered  the  royal 
palace,  and  beheld  inside  of  it  the  rakshasa  Yama- 
danshtra, sitting  on  his  throne,  having  a mouth  terrible 
with  tusks,  with  a lovely  woman  at  his  left  hand, 
and  a virgin  of  heavenly  beauty  on  his  right  hand. 
And  when  Indivarasena  saw  him  he  went  with 
the  sword  given  him  by  Durga  in  his  hand,  and 
challenged  him  to  fight,  and  the  rakshasa  drew  his 
sword  and  stood  up  to  resist  him.  And  in  the 
course  of  the  fight  Indivarasena  frequently  cut  off 
the  rakshasa’s  head,  but  it  grew  again.  Seeing  that 
magic  power  of  his,  and  having  had  a sign  made  to 
him  by  the  maiden  at  the  rakshasa’s  side,  who  had 
fallen  in  love  with  him  at  first  sight,  the  prince,  after 
cutting  off  the  head  of  the  rakshasa,  being  quick 

VOL.  I. 


L 


162 


POPULAK  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


of  hand,  again  cut  it  in  two  with  a stroke  of  his 
sword.  Then  the  rakshasa’s  magic  was  baffled  by 
contrary  magic,  and  his  head  did  not  grow  again,  and 
the  rakshasa  died  of  the  wound.^ 

According  to  Danish  folk-lore  (says  Thorpe),  when  a 
cock  is  seven  years  old  it  lays  an  egg,  from  which, 
when  hatched,  there  comes  forth  a basilisk — an  ugly 
monster  that  kills  people  only  by  looking  at  them.  It 
is  said  that  the  only  method  by  which  this  creature 
can  be  destroyed  is  by  holding  a looking-glass  before 
it ; for  it  is  so  ugly  that  it  cannot  survive  the  sight  of 
itself.^  Thus  in  chapter  139  of  Swan’s  ‘ Gesta  Eoman- 
orum  ’ a basilisk  destroys  the  soldiers  of  Alexander  the 
Great,  without  any  visible  wound ; and  a philosopher 
advises  that  a mirror  be  placed  so  as  to  confront  the 
monster,  which  being  done,  it  has  the  desired  effect  of 
causing  its  death.  Berni  has  adopted  this  idea  in  his 
' Orlgindo  Innamorato,’  in  the  story  related  by  the  lady 
to  Einaldo  while  he  escorts  her  on  a journey : a lover, 
in  order  to  enter  an  enchanted  garden,  employs  a mirror 
to  drive  away  the  Medusa  by  whom  it  was  guarded. 
And  in  the  Persian  romance  of  ' Hatim  Tai,’  the  hero 
comes  to  a village  where  he  finds  the  people  all  lament- 
ing and  weeping  bitterly.  They  inform  him  that 
''  once  every  week  a monster  comes  to  our  village  and 
devours  one  of  us ; and  if  we  do  not  appease  him  by 

^ Tawney’s  translation  of  the  ‘ Kathii  Sarit  S^lgara,’  Book  vii.  ch.  42, 
vol.  i.  p.  385. 

2 Thorpe’s  ‘Northern  Mythology,’  vol.  ii.  p.  143,  note. 


DKAGONS  AND  MONSTROUS  BIRDS. 


163 


the  sacrifice  of  a human  creature,  he  will  raze  our 
abodes  to  the  dust.  At  present  the  lot  has  fallen  on 
the  son  of  our  chief.  On  Thursday  the  monster  will 
come,  and  the  four  days  that  intervene  till  that  time 
are  devoted  to  weeping  and  mourning.  The  youth’s 
relations  are  at  this  moment  standing  around  him, 
extolling  his  virtues  and  lamenting  his  fate.”  Hatim 
engages  himself,  of  course,  to  face  the  monster  in  place 
of  the  chief’s  son.  A sketch  of  the  creature  is  shown 
him,  upon  which  he  said,  ''  This  must  be  the  monster 
Haluka,  who  is  invulnerable  against  all  weapons ; 
but  if  you  follow  my  directions,  I may  be  able  to  over- 
come him.”  Hatim  then  caused  a huge  mirror  to 
be  constructed,  and  placed  in  a certain  spot  out- 
side the  village.  The  monster  came  for  his  victim 
— in  the  shape  of  a great  dome  without  hands  or 
feet,  having  a terrible  mouth  in  the  middle  of  his  body 
— and  having  approached  within  a few  paces  of  the 
mirror,  on  seeing  the  reflection  of  his  hideous  form, 
he  made  the  earth  tremble  with  his  roar,  and,  chok- 
ing wdth  rage,  his  conflned  breath  so  inflated  his 
body  that,  like  a crack  of  thunder,  he  burst,  over- 
spreading the  surrounding  district  with  his  loathsome 
entrails. 

The  oldest  known  form  of  these  legends  of  devour- 
ing monsters  is  found  in  a beautiful  episode  in  the 
grand  Indian  epic,  ' Mahabharata,’  which  has  been 
turned  into  graceful  English  verse  by  Dean  Milman, 
under  the  title  of  The  Brahman’s  Lament.”  Professor 


164 


POPULAE  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


Monier  Williams,  in  his  ' Indian  Epic  Poetry,’  gives  the 
following  outline  of  this  ancient  legend,  which  is  called 
in  the  original  ''  Bakabadha  ” : 

In  the  neighbourhood  of  Ekrachakra,  a town  in  which 
the  Pandavas  had  taken  refuge  after  the  treacherous 
attempt  of  their  cousins  to  destroy  them  by  setting  fire 
to  their  dwelling,  resided  a fierce  giant,  named  Baka, 
who  forced  the  citizens  to  send  him  every  day  a dish 
of  food  by  a man,  whom  he  always  devoured  as  his 
daintiest  morsel  at  the  end  of  the  repast.  The  turn 
had  come  to  a poor  Brahman  to  provide  the  rakshasa 
with  his  meal.  He  determines  to  go  himself,  but 
laments  bitterly  the  hardness  of  his  fate.  Upon  this 
his  wife  and  daughter  address  him  in  language  full  of 
the  deepest  pathos,  each  in  turn  insisting  on  sacrificing 
herself  for  the  good  of  the  family.  Lastly,  the  little 
son,  too  young  to  speak  distinctly,  with  beaming  eyes 
and  smiling  face,  runs  to  his  parents,  and  with  prattling 
voice  says,  “Weep  not,  father;  sigh  not,  mother!” 
Then  breaking  off  and  brandishing  a pointed  spike  of 
grass,  he  adds  in  childish  accents,  “ With  this  pike  I 
will  slay  the  fierce  man-eating  giant ! ” His  parents 
(so  proceeds  the  story),  hearing  this  innocent  prattle  of 
their  child,  in  the  midst  of  their  heartrending  anguish 
felt  a thrill  of  exquisite  delight.  The  end  of  it  is  that 
Bhima,^  who  overhears  the  whole  conversation,  under- 
takes to  convey  the  meal  to  the  monster,  and  of  course 
speedily  despatches  him. 

1 Bhima  was  one  of  the  five  P4ndava  princes.  The  name  signifies 

The  Terrible.” 


DEAGONS  AND  MONSTEOUS  BIEDS. 


165 


''  It  is  considered  by  some  authors/’  remarks  Hen- 
derson, that  these  legends  are  figurative ; that  they 
grew  up  and  around  the  memory  of  such  monsters  of 
cruelty  as  Attila  or  the  infamous  Baron  de  Eetz,  who 
are  accordingly  handed  down  to  posterity  with  the 
outward  lineaments  of  dragons  and  suchlike  mon- 
sters. . . . Other  writers  see  in  the  dragon  only  the 
huge  serpent,  the  gigantic  saurian,  or  other  enormous 
creature,  such  as  formerly  disputed  with  man  the 
mastery  of  the  world,  only  by  degrees  disappearing 
before  him.  To  others,  again,  all  is  pure  allegory : in 
every  tale  of  champion  and  dragon  they  simply  see 
‘ the  ceaseless  universal  strife  ’ between  good  and 
evil."i 

The  notion  is  utterly  absurd  that  ''  such  monsters  of 
cruelty  as  Attila  and  the  Baron  de  Eetz  ” are  repre- 
sented as  dragons,  etc.,  in  these  legends;  while  the 
solar  myth  theory  is  at  last  being  considered  ‘ by  the 
most  eminent  comparative  mythologists  as  quite 
untenable.  That  legends  of  encounters  with  fierce 
giants,  ogres,  and  dragons  are  survivals  of  primitive 
traditions  of  contests  between  Aryan  tribes  and  the 
savage  aborigines  of  lands  to  which  they  migrated 
— or,  going  still  farther  back  in  the  early  history  of 
the  world,  of  combats  between  monstrous  creatures 
and  men  — is,  however,  probable  to  the  verge  of 
certainty. 

1 ‘ Notes  on  the  Folk-Lore  of  the  Northern  Counties  of  England  and 
the  Borders.’  By  William  Henderson.  Second  edition,  printed  for 
the  Folk-Lore  Society. 


166 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


Enormous  birds,  which  can  as  easily  carry  off  an 
elephant  as  the  eagle  flies  away  with  a lamb  in  its 
talons,  frequently  figure  in  popular  Actions:  of  these 
the  Eoc  {nUch)  of  the  ‘Arabian  Mghts’  is  probably 
most  familiar  to  the  English  general  reader.  Mention 
is  made  of  this  monstrous  bird  in  the  Norwegian  story 
of  the  Blue  Belt:  A party  of  sailors  landing  on  the 
coast  of  Arabia  And  “ an  egg  the  size  of  a small  house.’’ 
The  hero  splits  it  with  his  sword,  when  there  issues 
from  it  a chicken  as  large  as  an  elephant — an  exact 
parallel  to  an  incident  in  one  of  the  voyages  of  Sind- 
bad  the  Sailor. 

“ A wundervogdl'  remarks  Wilson,  “ is  the  property 
of  all  peoples,  and  the  Garuda  of  the  Hindus  is  repre- 
sented by  the  Eorosh  of  the  Zend,  the  Simurgh  of  the 
Persians,  the  Anka  of  the  Arabs,  the  Kargas  of  the 
Turks,  the  Kirni  of  the  Japanese,  the  sacred  Dragon 
of  the  Chinese,  the  Griffin  of  chivalry,  the  Phoenix  of 
classical  fable,  the  ‘wise  and  ancient  Bird’  that  sits 
upon  the  ash  Yggdrasil  of  the  Edda,  and,  according  to 
Faber,  with  all  the  rest,  is  a representation  of  the  holy 
cherubim  that  guarded  the  gate  of  Paradise.  Some 
writers  have  even  traced  the  Twelve  Knights  of  the 
Eound-Table  to  the  Twelve  Eocs  of  Persian  poetry.”  ^ 

Perhaps  the  earliest  notice  of  a monstrous  bird  is 
found  in  ‘ Buddhaghosha’s  Parables,’  in  the  story  of 
Queen  Samavati,  where  we  read  that,  “ in  the  Kosambi 

^ Dr  Horace  Hayman  Wilson’s  ‘ Essays  on  Sanskrit  Literature,’ 
edited  by  Dr  Reinhold  Rost,  "vol.  i.  pp.  192,  193,  note.  To  these 
monster  birds  may  be  added  the  Norka  of  Russian  popular  fictions. 


DEAGONS  AND  MONSTEOUS  BIEDS. 


^67 

country  King  Parantapa  was  one  day  with  his  queen 
outside  the  palace.  The  queen  being  pregnant,  the 
king  made  her  put  on  a large  scarlet  cloak.  Just  then 
a Hatthilinga,  a monstrous  bird,  flew  down  from  the 
sky,  and  taking  the  queen  for  a piece  of  flesh,  fluttered 
his  wings  with  a tremendous  noise.  The  king,  hearing 
the  sound,  went  inside  the  palace;  but  the  queen, 
owing  to  her  condition,  being  unable  to  escape,  was 
swept  off  by  the  bird,  for  the  Hatthilinga  has  the 
strength  of  five  elephants.’’^ 

In  the  'Katha  Sarit  Sagara’  (B.  v.  ch.  26)  Saktideva 
conceals  himself  in  the  back-feathers  of  an  enormous 
bird  of  the  vulture  species,  and  is  conveyed  to  the 
Golden  City;  in  the  Swedish  tale  of  the  Beautiful 
Palace  East  o’  the  Sun  and  North  o’  the  Earth  (Thorpe’s 
‘Yule-Tide  Stories’)  the  Phoenix  carries  the  hero  on 
his  back  to  the  palace ; and  in  No.  5 of  Dozon’s  ‘ Contes 
Albanais  ’ an  eagle  performs  a similar  service  to  a youth 
who  had  preserved  her  young  from  a serpent.  But  the 
largest  of  all  the  birds  of  Asiatic  and  European  Actions 
must  have  been  mere  tom-tits  in  comparison  with  the 
Halcyon  of  Lucian’s  ‘Vera  Historia,’  whose  nest  was 
seven  miles  in  circumference ! 

^ ‘ Buddhaghosha’s  Parables  ’ : a commentary  on  the  ‘ Dammapada,’ 
or  Path  of  Virtue.  Translated  from  the  Burmese  by  Captain  T.  Eogers ; 
to  which  is  prefixed  a translation  of  the  ‘ Dammapada  ’ by  Professor 
F.  Max  Muller,  with  an  Introduction. 


168 


/ 


PETRIFYING  VICTIMS:  LIFE -TOKENS;  TESTS 
OF  CHASTITY. 

IV/rAGIC  performs  a very  important  part  in  the  folk- 
tales  of  Europe  as  well  as  in  the  fictions  of  all 
Asiatic  countries,  where  belief  in  spells,  talismans,  en- 
chantments, etc.,  has  prevailed  from  the  most  remote 
period  of  which  we  possess  any  record.  The  classical 
fable  of  Medusa’s  locks,  which  turned  into  stone  who- 
ever looked  on  them,  is  paralleled  in  the  Eussian  tale 
of  Ivan  Devich : A Baba  Yoga  gives  him  one  of  her 
hairs,  and  bids  him  tie  three  knots  on  it,  and  then 
blow,  which  having  done,  both  he  and  his  horse  be- 
come petrified. — In  a Greek  popular  story,  a young 
prince  and  his  steed  are  partially  turned  into  marble 
by  an  enchantress,  but  are  restored  to  their  natural 
condition  through  the  instrumentality  of  a hermit.^ 
A well-known  instance  of  the  power  of  enchanters  to 
petrify  their  victims  occurs  in  the  ‘ Arabian  Nights,’ 
where  a youth  is  discovered  reading  the  Kuran,  the 

^ Story  of  “ La  Tzitzinaena  ” in  ^ Recueil  de  Contes  Populaires  Grecs,’ 
traduits  sur  les  textes  originaux  par  Emile  Legrand.  Paris  : 1881. 


PETRIFYING  VICTIMS:  LIFE-TOKENS. 


169 


lower  half  of  his  body  having  been  turned  into  marble 
by  the  magical  arts  of  his  wicked  wife.  And  in  an- 
other Arabian  tale  — that  of  the  Envious  Sisters  — 
the  two  princes,  who  successively  go  in  quest  of  the 
Singing  Tree,  etc.,  which  their  sister  had  set  her  heart 
upon  possessing,  are  both  turned  to  stone  (as  had  also 
been  the  fate  of  all  former  adventurers),  because  they 
looked  back  before  securing  the  cage  in  which  the 
wonderful  bird  was  confined. 

The  prototype  of  such  incidents  seems  to  be  the 
fate  of  Lot's  wife,  who,  looking  back  to  the  burning 
Cities  of  the  Plain — which  she  was  expressly  forbid- 
den to  do — was  instantly  turned  into  a pillar  of  salt 
(Gen.  xix.  26).  We  are  also  reminded  of  the  story  of 
Orpheus  in  the  regions  of  Pluto,  who  had  consented  to 
restore  Eurydice  to  life  on  the  condition  that  Orpheus 
did  not  look  behind  him  until  he  had  reached  the 
upper  world  again ; and  on  his  violating  the  condition, 
Eurydice  was  lost  to  him  for  ever. 

The  welfare,  or  danger,  of  the  heroes  of  many  folk- 
tales is  indicated  by  a magical  flower,  or  some  other 
object,  which  they  leave  behind  with  their  friends,  on 
setting  out  upon  perilous  adventures.  In  the  Eussian 
tale  of  Ivan  Popyalof  (Ealston’s  collection)  the  hero 
hangs  up  his  gloves,  and  tells  his  two  brothers  that, 
should  they  perceive  blood  to  drop  from  them,  they 
must  hasten  to  help  him;  and  in  another  tale  the 
hero  leaves  behind  him  a silver  snuff-box  which  would 
turn  black  if  any  misfortune  happened  to  him. 


170 


POPULAE  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


In  the  Arabian  tale  of  the  Envious  Sisters,  the  elder 
prince  gives  his  sister  a dagger,  which  she  is  to  draw 
out  of  its  sheath  every  day  while  he  is  absent,  and  if 
the  blade  continue  clear,  it  is  a token  that  he  is  alive 
and  well,  but  if  it  be  stained  with  blood,  he  is  dead ; 
and  the  younger  prince,  when  about  to  go  in  search  of 
his  brother,  gives  her  a string  of  a hundred  pearls, 
which  if  they  would  not  run  freely  when  she  counted 
them,  would  then  indicate  that  he  had  suffered  the 
same  fate  as  his  brother^  A singularly  close  parallel 
to  this  Arabian  tale  is  found  in  the  Icelandic  story  of 
the  Farmer’s  Three  Daughters : The  elder  brother 
said  to  the  younger  that  “if  three  drops  of  blood 
should  fall  from  his  knife  at  table  while  he  was  away, 
he  must  come  at  once  to  his  rescue,  for  then  it  would 
be  sure  that  he  had  fared  like  the  others.”  This  token 
being  perceived  one  day,  the  younger  brother  goes  off 
to  help  the  elder,  making  the  same  arrangement  with 
his  sister  as  the  other  had  made  with  himself. 

In  the  Kalmuk  tales  of  ‘ Siddhi  Kur,’  six  youths  set 
out  to  travel,  and  arriving  at  the  mouth  of  a great 
river,  they  agree  to  separate,  and  meet  again  a cer- 
tain time  after  at  the  same  place.  They  each  plant  a 
“ tree  of  life,”  and  should  any  one  of  their  number  be 
missing  at  the  rendezvous,  and  his  life-tree  be  found 
withered,  they  pledge  themselves  to  search  for  him. 


1 There  is  a variant  of  this  tale  in  Jonathan  Scott’s  edition  of  the 
‘ Arabian  Nights,’  vol.  vi.  p.  161,  in  which  the  elder  brother  gives  the 
younger  a ring,  which  pressing  hard  upon  his  finger  would  betoken 
that  the  elder  brother  was  dead. 


LIFE-TOKENS. 


171 


wherever  he  might  be.  This  idea  is,  however,  much 
older  than  the  Tartar  tales.  In  the  Indian  romance 
of  Chitrasekhara  and  Somasekhara  a princess  is  held 
captive  by  a fierce  giant,  and  one  of  the  two  heroes 
undertakes  her  liberation.  Before  setting  out  he  gives 
his  brother  a flower,  the  withering  of  which  would  be- 
token that  he  was  in  danger,  and  required  immediate 
assistance.^ 

In  the  popular  tales  of  Madagascar,  similar  objects 
figure  frequently.  Thus  in  one  story,  the  hero  plants 
some  aruns  and  plantain-trees,  and  says  to  his  parents, 
“ If  these  grow  withered,  then  I am  ill ; and  if  they 
die,  it  will  be  a sign  that  I am  dead.’’  And  in  another, 
the  hero  tells  his  mother  that  a certain  banana-tree  is 
to  be  a sign  of  his  condition,  according  as  it  withered 
or  died.^ 

To  these  ''life-tokens”  may  be  added  the  ring 
which,  according  to  the  Gaelic  legend  (beautifully 
versified  by  Leyden  under  the  title  of  " The  Mermaid 
Macphail  of  Colonsay  received  from  his  lady-love  on 
his  going  to  the  wars : 

“ When  on  this  ring  of  ruby  red 

Shall  die,”  said  she,  " the  crimson  hue, 

Know  that  thy  favourite  fair  is  dead. 

Or  proves  to  thee  and  love  untrue.” 

The  chief,  in  sailing  home,  was  carried  off  by  a mer- 

^ ‘ Descriptive  Catalogue  of  the  Oriental  Manuscripts,  &c.,  collected 
by  Colonel  C.  Mackenzie.’  By  H.  H.  Wilson.  Calcutta : 1828.  Vol.  i. 
p.  51. 

2 “ Malagasy  Folk-Tales,”  by  Eev.  Jas.  Sibree,  junior,  in  ‘ Folk-Lore 
Journal  ’ (1884),  vol.  ii.  pp.  52,  130. 


172 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


maid  while  passing  the  Gulf  of  Corrivreckan,  and  they 
lived  together  in  a grotto  under  the  sea  for  several 
years.  At  length  he  grew  tired  of  her  society,  and 
ardently  wished  to  return  to  the  Maid  of  Colonsay : 

But  still  the  ring  of  ruby  red 
Retained  its  vivid  crimson  hue, 

And  each  despairing  accent  fled, 

To  find  his  gentle  love  so  true. 

One  day  the  mermaid  requested  him  to  give  her  the 
ring,  which  he  promised  to  do,  if  she  would  bear 
him  near  to  Colonsay,  and  when  they  approached  the 
shore  he  leaped  on  to  the  land,  and  was  reunited  to  his 
own  true  love.’’ 

Closely  allied  to  these  magical  life-tokens  is  the 
nosegay  which,  in  the  Persian  Tales  of  a Parrot  Tiiti 
Nama’),  a woman  presents  to  her  husband  on  his 
taking  leave  of  her  to  enter  the  service  of  a nobleman, 
and  which  would  remain  fresh  so  long  as  she  continued 
faithful  to  him.  After  some  time  the  nobleman  in- 
quired of  the  soldier  how  he  could  thus  procure  a fresh 
nosegay  every  day  in  the  middle  of  winter,  and  was 
informed  that  its  continual  bloom  was  a token  of  his 
wife’s  chastity.  The  noble  sends  his  chief  cook  to 
attempt  the  woman’s  virtue,  but  she  cleverly  outwits 
and  entraps  him;  and  as  he  did  not  return  to  his 
master,  the  second  cook  was  despatched  on  the  same 
errand,  and  met  with  a like  reception.  At  length  the 
nobleman  himself,  with  his  attendants  (among  whom 
was  the  soldier),  visits  the  virtuous  wife,  who  receives 


TESTS  OF  CHASTITY. 


173 


him  courteously ; and  his  two  cooks,  dressed  as  female 
slaves,  to  the  infinite  amusement  of  his  excellency, 
wait  upon  him  at  supper.  The  happy  soldier  then 
returns  his  wife  the  nosegay,  still  fresh  and  blooming. 

Tests  of  female  chastity  are  the  subjects  of  many 
old  European  romances  and  ballads.  A rose  is  the 
test  in  the  romance  of  Perce  Porest ; in  Amadis  de 
Gaul  it  is  a garland  that  blooms  on  the  head  of  her 
that  is  faithful,  and  fades  on  the  brow  of  the  incon- 
stant ; in  ' Les  Contes  a rire ' it  is  also  a flower ; in 
Ariosto’s  ' Orlando  Purioso  ’ the  test,  applied  to  both 
male  and  female,  is  a cup  of  wine  which  is  spilled 
by  the  unfaithful  lover  — which  also  occurs  in  the 
romances  of  Tristan,  Perceval,  La  Morte  d’Arthur,  and 
is  well  known  in  La  Fontaine’s  “ La  Coupe  Enchantee.” 
In  ' La  Lai  du  Corn  ’ it  is  a drinking-horn.  Spenser 
has  derived  the  girdle  of  Plorimel  from  these  sources, 
or,  more  immediately,  perhaps,  from  the  fabliau,  Le 
Manteau  mal  taille,”  or  “Le  Court  Mantel,”  an  English 
version  of  which  is  found  in  Percy’s  ‘ Eeliques,’  under 
the  title  of  “ The  Boy  and  the  Mantle.”  ^ 

In  the  metrical  tale  of  “ The  Wright’s  Chaste  Wife  ” 
— of  which  an  analysis  will  be  found  in  a subsequent 
paper,  “ The  Lady  and  her  Suitors  ” — edited  by  Dr 
E.  J.  Furnivall  for  the  Early  English  Text  Society,  a 
rose-garland  is  the  test.  The  69th  tale  of  the  Contin- 
ental ' Gesta  Eomanorum  ’ tells  how  the  mother-in- 
law  of  a carpenter  gives  him  a shirt  which  had  the 

^ ‘ Essays  on  Sanskrit  Literature,’  by  Dr  H.  H.  Wilson,  edited  by 
Dr  Reinhold  Rost,  vol.  i.  p.  218. 


174 


POPULAK  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


singular  property  of  remaining  unsoiled,  and  could  not 
be  rent,  so  long  as  his  wife  and  himself  continued 
faithful  to  each  other.  So,  too,  in  the  North-German 
tale  of  the  King  and  Queen  of  Spain  (Thorpe’s  ' Yule- 
Tide  Stories  ’),  the  queen  gives  her  husband  a shirt 
which  would  betoken  her  fidelity  so  long  as  it  re- 
mained spotless.^ 

Another  infallible  indication  of  female  chastity  was 
the  mirror  presented  by  the  king  of  the  genii  to  Zeyn 
el-Asnam,  in  the  Arabian  tale,  which  reflected  the  form 
of  the  woman  of  whose  spotless  virtue  he  wished  to  be 
assured  : if  the  mirror  remained  clear,  she  was  chaste ; 
but  if  dimmed,  she  was  ''  no  better  than  she  should  be,” 
to  employ  the  popular  phrase,  which  being  interpreted 
signifieth  that  she  was  a great  deal  worse  than  she 
should  be.  Bandello  has  a somewhat  similar  con- 
trivance in  one  of  his  Italian  novels  (Part  I.,  nov.  21), 
where  a Bohemian  noble  is  possessed  of  a magic  pic- 
ture, which,  by  its  colour,  shows  the  fidelity  or  frailty 
of  his  wife.  And  in  the  ' Pentamerone  ’ of  Basile  a 
fairy  gives  each  of  a king’s  three  daughters  a ring, 
which  would  break  when  its  possessor  quitted  the 
path  of  virtue.  Three  distaffs  take  the  place  of  these 
magic  rings  in  the  French  fairy  tale  of  L’Adroite 
Princess,”  which  is  an  imitation  of  Basile’s  story. 

A flower  is  the  test  of  marital  fidelity  in  a story  in 
the  ‘ Katha  Sarit  Sagara  ’ : When  Devasmita  is  obliged 

^ Thorpe  says  that  this  story  agrees  in  substance  with  the  ballad  of 
“ Graf  von  Rom,”  in  Uhland,  and  with  the  Flemish  story  of  Ritter 
Alexander  aus  Metz  und  seiner  Frau  Florentina.” 


TESTS  OF  CHASTITY. 


175 


to  separate  from  her  husband,  the  deity  Siva  gives 
each  a red  lotus,  saying,  ''  Take  each  of  you  one  of 
these  lotuses  in  your  hands,  and  if  either  of  you  shall 
be  unfaithful  during  your  separation,  the  lotus  in  the 
hand  of  the  other  shall  fade,  but  not  otherwise.’’  ^ — In 
the  115th  tale  of  the  Continental  ' Gesta  Eomanorum  ’ 
we  read  of  an  elephant  which  no  one  dare  approach 
until  it  is  lulled  to  sleep  by  two  chaste  virgins.  The 
original  of  this  story  is  probably  found  in  the  ' Katha 
Sarit  Sagara,’  where  it  is  related  that  a white  elephant 
having  fallen  down  apparently  dead,  a holy  man  de- 
clares that  it  can  only  be  raised  up  by  the  presence  of 
a perfectly  chaste  woman.  All  the  women  of  the  royal 
household,  including  the  king’s  favourite  wife,  are  called 
to  put  their  virtue  to  this  test,  but  each  fails,  and 
ultimately  only  one  woman  in  all  the  city  was  found 
sufficiently  chaste  to  restore  the  elephant  to  life ! ^ 

^ This,  with  analogous  tokens  of  chastity,  will  be  found  more  fully 
compared  in  a subsequent  paper  on  versions  of  “ The  Lady  and  her 
Suitors.” 

2 Hey  wood,  in  the  Fourth  Book  of  his  ‘ History  of  Women  ’ (ed. 
1657,  pp.  253,  254),  relates  out  of  Herodotus  a very  curious  story, 
which  bears  a close  resemblance  to  the  above  : On  the  death  of 
Sesostris,  King  of  Egypt,  his  son  Pherones  succeeded  to  the  throne, 
and  not  long  afterwards  lost  his  sight.  An  oracle  prescribed  a peculiar 
remedy,  in  which  a chaste  matron  was  a sine  qua  non, — “ at  which 
newes  being  much  rejoiced,  and  presuming  both  of  certain  and  sudden 
cure,  he  first  sent  for  his  wife  and  Queen,”  but  all  was  in  vain  ; he 
sent  next  for  all  the  great  Ladies  of  the  Court,  one  after  one,”  and 
still  his  eyes  fared  no  better  ; “ but  at  length  when  he  was  almost  in 
despaire,  he  hapned  upon  one  pure  and  chaste  Lady,  by  whose  vertue 
his  sight  was  restored,  and  he  plainly  cured.”  After  relating  how  the 
king  caused  all  those  frail  ladies  to  be  put  to  a cruel  death,  “ reserv- 
ing only  that  Lady  of  whose  loialty  the  Oracle  had  given  sufficient 
testimony,”  whom  he  made  his  queen.  Hey  wood  has  some  uncompli- 


176 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


A tank  of  water  was  the  means  by  which  the  her- 
mits ascertained  the  chastity  of  Sita,  the  wife  of  Eama, 
whose  adventures  are  related  in  the  great  Indian  epic, 
' Eamayana/  by  Valmiki.  When  the  hermits  expressed 
their  suspicions,  Sita  said  to  them  (according  to  the 
version  of  the  incident  v given  in  the  ' Katha-  Sarit 
Sagara,’  Book  ix.  chap.  51),  Eeverend  sirs,  test  my 
purity  by  any  means  that  you  know  of,  and  if  I turn 
out  to  be  unchaste,  let  me  be  punished  by  having  my 
head  cut  off.’’  Hearing  this,  they  experienced  an 
emotion  of  pity,  and  said  to  her,  ‘‘  There  is  a famous 
bathing-place  in  this  forest,  called  Tithibhasaras,  for  a 
certain  chaste  woman  named  Tithibhi,  being  falsely 
accused  by  her  husband,  who  suspected  her  of  familiar- 
ity with  another  man,  in  her  helplessness  invoked  the 
goddess  Earth  and  the  Lokapalas,  and  they  produced 
it  for  her  justification.  There  let  the  wife  of  Eama 
clear  herself  for  our  satisfaction.”  When  they  said 
that,  Sita  went  with  them  to  that  lake.  And  the 
chaste  woman  said,  ''  Mother  Earth,  if  my  mind  was 
never  fixed,  even  in  a dream,  on  any  one  besides  my 
husband,  may  I reach  the  other  side  of  the  lake ; ” 
and  after  saying  this,  she  entered  the  lake,  and  the 
goddess  Earth  appeared,  and,  taking  her  in  her  lap, 
carried  her  to  the  other  side.^ 

mentary  remarks  on  the  ladies  of  his  own  times — which  need  not  be 
reproduced,  since  they  can  have  no  application  to  those  of  our  happy 
times  ! 

^ We  find  a curious  parallel  to  this  water-ordeal  of  Sita  in  the 
Gospel  of  Pseudo -Matthew,  chap,  xii.,  in  which  both  Joseph  and 
Mary  go  through  ‘^the  ordeal  of  jealousy  ” as  ordained  in  the  Book 


TESTS  OF  CHASTITY. 


177 


In  a Persian  tale  of  an  unfaithful  wife,  in  Car- 
donne’s  ' Melanges  de  Litterature  Orientale,’  her 
father-in-law  cites  her  to  the  Tank  of  Trial,  at  Agra. 
The  virtue  of  this  water  consisted  in  trying  all  kinds 
of  falsehood.  A woman,  suspected  of  infidelity,  swore 
she  had  been  faithful,  and  was  thrown  into  this 
tank : if  she  swore  falsely  she  instantly  sank  to  the 
bottom,  but  if  truly  she  floated.^  This  wife,  conscious 
of  her  guilt,  devised  a plan  by  which  she  should  come 
through  the  ordeal  scatheless:  she  bade  her  gallant 

of  Numbers,  chap.  v.  11-31  : Joseph  having  done  so  in  safety,  the 
priests  said  to  Mary,  “ This  only  we  require  of  thee,  that,  since 
Joseph  is  pure  regarding  thee,  thou  confess  who  it  is  that  has  be- 
guiled thee.  For  it  is  better  that  thy  confession  should  betray  thee, 
than  that  the  wrath  of  God  should  set  a mark  on  thy  face,  and  expose 
thee  in  the  midst  of  the  people.”  Then  Mary  said,  steadfastly  and 
without  trembling,  “ 0 Lord  God,  King  over  all,  who  knowest  all 
secrets,  if  there  be  any  pollution  in  me,  or  any  sin,  or  any  evil  desires, 
or  unchastity,  expose  me  in  the  sight  of  all  the  people,  and  make  me 
an  example  of  punishment  to  all.”  Thus  saying,  she  went  up  to  the 
altar  of  the  Lord  boldly,  and  drank  the  water  of  drinking,  and  walked 
round  the  altar  seven  times,  and  no  spot  was  found  in  her.  — ‘ Apocry- 
phal Gospels,  Acts,  and  Eevelations,’  translated  by  Alexander  Walker, 
H.M.I.S.  ; Edinburgh;  1870;  p.  30.  (Vol.  xvi.  of  Clark’s  ‘Ante- 
Nicene  Christian  Library.’) 

^ Our  ignorant  ancestors  had  the  same  plan  for  testing  persons 
accused  of  witchcraft. — Hey  wood,  in  the  Ninth  Book  of  his  ‘ History 
of  Women  ’ (ed.  1657,  pp.  614,  615),  says ; “ In  Sardinia  was  a Water, 
in  which  if  the  Perjurer  washt  his  eies,  he  was  instantly  struck  blind, 
but  the  innocent  departed  thence  purer  in  his  fame,  and  more  perfect 
in  his  sight  (Alex.,  lib.  5,  cap.  10).  Miraculous  are  those  ponds  in 
Sicilia,  called  Palici  [Aristotle  calls  this  fountain  Acedinus],  near  the 
river  Simethus,  where  Truths  and  Falsehoods  are  strangely  dis- 
tinguished : The  Oaths  of  men  and  women  being  written  in  Tables, 
and  cast  in  them,  the  Truths  swam  above  water,  and  the  Lies  sunk 
down  to  the  bottom.  All  such  as  forswore  themselves,  washing  in 
these  waters,  died  not  long  after,  but  others  returned  thence,  with 
more  validity  and  strength.” 

VOL.  I. 


M 


178 


POPULAK  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


counterfeit  madness,  and  to  seize  her  the  moment  she 
was  to  undergo  the  trial.  The  lover,  solicitous  to  save 
the  honour  and  life  of  his  mistress,  made  no  scruple 
to  expose  himself  to  the  spectators,  and  found  an  op- 
portunity to  approach  and  embrace  her,  which  he 
effected  by  subjecting  himself  to  a few  blows,  being 
deemed  insane  by  those  who  did  not  know  him.  The 
suspected  wife  advanced  to  the  edge  of  the  tank,  and, 
raising  her  voice,  cried,  “ I swear  that  I never  touched 
any  man  but  my  husband  and  that  madman  who  has 
just  insulted  me.  Let  this  water  be  my  punishment 
if  I have  sworn  falsely.’’  Having  thus  spoken,  she 
threw  herself  into  the  tank.  The  water  buoyed  her 
up  in  sight  of  all  present,  who  unanimously  declared 
her  innocent,  and  she  returned  triumphant  to  the 
arms  of  her  husband,  who  had  always  thought  her 
faithful.^ 

This  incident  has  been  taken  from  the  15th  tale  of 
the  'Suka  Saptati,’  or  Seventy  Tales  of  a Parrot,  a 
Sanskrit  work ; and  it  reappears  in  the  mediaeval 
''  life  ” of  Virgilius,  with  a metal  serpent  in  place  of 
the  water-tank,  as  follows  (the  spelling  is  modernised) : 

“ Then  made  Virgilius  at  Pome  a metal  serpent  with 
his  cunning,  that  whoever  put  his  hand  in  the  throat 
of  the  serpent  was  to  swear  his  cause  right  and  true ; 
and  if  his  cause  were  false  he  should  not  pluck  it  out 

^ A Mongolian  variant  is  found  in  the  tales  of  Ardshi  Bordshi  (the 
second  part  of  ‘Sagas  from  the  Far  East’),  under  the  title  of  “ How 
Naren  Gerel  swore  falsely  and  yet  told  the  truth,”  but  the  water- test 
is  omitted. 


TESTS  OF  CHASTITY. 


179 


again  without  harm  doing.  So  it  fortuned  that  there 
was  a knight  of  Lombardy  that  mistrusted  his  wife ; 
but  she  excused  herself  right  nobly  and  wisely.  And 
she  consented  to  go  with  him  to  Eome  to  that  serpent, 
and  there  to  take  her  oath  that  she  was  not  guilty  of 
that  that  he  put  upon  her.  And  thereto  consented  the 
knight : and  as  they  were  both  in  the  cart,  and  also 
her  man  with  her,  she  said  to  the  man,  that  when  he 
came  to  Eome  he  should  clothe  him[self]  with  a foohs 
coat,  and  disguise  him[self]  in  such  manner  that  they 
should  not  know  him,  and  so  did  he ; and  when  the 
day  was  come  that  he  should  come  to  the  serpent, 
he  was  there  present.  And  Virgilius,  knowing  the 
falseness  of  the  woman  by  his  cunning  and  necro- 
mancy, then  said  he  to  the  woman,  ' Withdraw  your 
oath,  and  swear  not ; ’ but  she  would  not  do  after  him, 
but  put  her  hand  into  the  serpent’s  mouth ; and  when 
her  hand  was  in  she  sware  before  her  husband  that  she 
had  no  more  to  do  with  him  than  with  that  fool  that 
stood  by.  And  because  she  said  truth  she  pulled  her  * 
hand  again  out  of  the  throat  of  the  serpent,  not  hurt. 
And  Virgilius,  having  thereat  great  spite  and  anger 
that  the  woman  had  so  escaped,  destroyed  the  serpent, 
for  thus  escaped  the  lady  away  from  that  great  danger. 
And  Virgilius  said,  that  women  be  right  wise  to  ima- 
gine ungraciousness,  but  in  goodness  they  be  but  inno- 
cents”— i.e.,  simpletons, 

A similar  stratagem  is  adopted  by  Queen  Ysonde 
in  the  old  metrical  romance  of  ‘ Sir  Tristrem.’  Queen 


180 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


Ysonde,  being  (justly)  accused  of  a liaison  with  Tris- 
tram, offers  to  prove  her  innocence  by  undergoing  the 
fiery  ordeal.  A court  is  appointed  to  be  held  at 
Westminster,  where  the  Queen  is  to  bear  red-hot 
iron  in  her  hand,  according  to  the  ancient  law  of 
ordeal.  Tristram  joins  the  retinue,  disguised  as  a 
peasant,  in  the  most  abject  state  of  poverty.  When 
they  are  about  to  cross  the  Thames,  the  queen  pitches 
upon  her  disguised  lover  to  bear  her  from  the  shore 
to  the  ship.  Tristram  designedly  lets  his  fair  burden 
fall  upon  the  beach  in  such  an  indecent  manner  as 
to  scandalise  the  attendants,  who  are  about  to  drown 
him  in  the  river,  but  are  prevented  by  Ysonde,  who 
imputes  the  accident  to  his  feebleness,  through  want 
of  food,  and  orders  him  a reward.  When  the  queen 
is  brought  to  her  oath,  she  swears  that  she  is  '‘a 
guiltless  woman,”  and  that  no  one  had  ever  familiarity 
with  her  person,  excepting  the  king,  and  the  peasant 
who  bore  her  to  the  vessel,  whose  indelicate  awkward- 
ness had  been  witnessed  by  the  whole  of  her  retinue. 
The  hot  iron  is  then  presented  to  Ysonde;  but  the 
uxorious  king  of  Cornwall,  resting  perfectly  satisfied 
with  the  equivocal  oath  of  his  consort,  refuses  to 
permit  her  to  hazard  this  dangerous  confirmation  of 
her  faith.  Ysonde  is  proclaimed  innocent,  and  is 
completely  reconciled  to  her  husband.^ 

^ ‘ Sir  Tristrem  ; a Metrical  Romance  of  the  Thirteenth  Century.’ 
By  Thomas  of  Erceldoune,  called  The  Rhymer.  Edited  from  the 
Auchinleck  MS.,  by  (Sir)  Walter  Scott.  4th  ed.,  1819:  Argument; 
Fytte  Second,  st.  102-107. 


TESTS  OF  CHASTITY. 


181 


The  depravity  of  women  is  frequently  the  subject  of 
satire  in  our  old  jest-books  and  other  collections  of 
stories ; from  which  we  must  not  suppose  that  they 
were  formerly  more  vicious  than  the  women  of  Europe 
at  the  present  day.  It  is  probable  that,  with  the  influx 
of  popular  Actions  from  the  East,  it  became  the  fashion 
for  European  story-tellers  to  imitate  the  Asiatics  in 
their  low  estimate  of  woman’s  virtue.  Muslims  have 
the  authority  of  traditional  sayings  unfavourable  to 
women,  ascribed — falsely,  let  us  trust — to  Muhammed, 
such  as,  I stood  at  the  gate  of  paradise,  and  lo  I 
most  of  its  inmates  were  poor ; and  I stood  at  the  gate 
of  hell,  and  lo ! most  of  its  inmates  were  women ; ” 
and  that  a man,  if  he  would  prosper  in  any  under- 
taking, should  do  the  contrary  to  what  his  wife  advises. 
But  sentiments  unfavourable  to  the  dignity  of  women 
are  not  peculiar  to  the  Muslims.  The  writings  of  the 
Hindus  contain  remarks  quite  as  spiteful  and  unjust, 
although  there  are  also  passages  of  great  beauty,  in 
which  women  are  spoken  of  in  terms  of  the  highest 
praise.  Among  the  northern  nations  of  Europe,  how- 
ever, women  seem  to  have  been  always  held  in  great 
honour,  and  their  influence  contributed  much  to  the 
martial  superiority  as  well  as  the  moral  excellence  of 
those  peoples. 


182 


BIRD-MAIDENS. 

rpHE  pretty  superstition,  which  is  the  basis  of  so 
many  folk-tales,  that  at  certain  times  fairies  put 
off  their  vesture  and  change  their  forms  to  those  of 
swans,  doves,  or  other  birds,  is  perhaps  one  of  those 
primitive  myths,  the  common  heritage  of  the  Aryan 
race ; ’’  although  it  is  found  current  in  almost  all  parts 
of  the  world.  The  forms  which  these  beautiful  imag- 
inary beings  assume  are,  of  course,  different  in  different 
countries.  In  the  Earo  Islands,  says  Thorpe,  in  his 
" Northern  Mythology,’  ''  the  superstition  is  current 
that  the  seal  casts  off  its  skin  every  night,  assumes 
the  human  form,  and  dances  and  amuses  itself  like 
a human  being  until  it  resumes  its  skin  and  again 
becomes  a seal.  It  once  happened  that  a man  passing 
during  one  of  these  transformations,  and  seeing  the 
skin,  took  possession  of  it,  when  the  seal,  which  was  a 
female,  not  finding  her  skin  to  creep  into,  was  obliged 
to  continue  in  a human  form ; and  being  a comely  per- 
son, the  man  made  her  his  wife,  had  several  children 
by  her,  and  they  lived  happily  together,  until,  after  a 


BIRD-MAIDENS. 


183 


lapse  of  several  years,  she  chanced  to  find  her  hidden 
skin,  which  she  could  not  refrain  from  creeping  into, 
and  so  became  a seal  again.’’  A similar  notion  pre- 
vailed among  the  people  of  Shetland  regarding  mer- 
maids, who,  it  seems  (according  to  Hibbert,  quoted  by 
Thorpe),  are  not  naturally  ''  flesh  fishified  ” at  their 
lower  extremities,  but  resemble  human  beings,  only 
are  far  more  beautiful,  and  dwell  in  the  depths  of  the 
ocean  in  halls  of  pearl  and  coral.  When  they  wish 
to  visit  the  upper  world,  they  put  on  the  ham,  or  garb, 
of  some  fish ; but  woe  to  those  who  lose  their  ham,  for 
then  are  all  hopes  of  return  annihilated,  and  they 
must  stay  where  they  are.^  ...  It  has  happened 
that  earthly  men  have  married  mermaids,  having  taken 
possession  of  their  ham,  and  thus  got  them  into  their 
power.”  2 It  is  the  same  story — alter  et  idem — every- 
where. 


In  the  Persian  romance  of  King  Bahram  Ghur  and 

^ Ham,  sub.,  skin  : A.S.  Kama,  Thus  in  Herrtage’s  ‘ Gesta,’  pub- 
lished by  the  Early  English  Text  Society,  p.  385  : “ She  left  hire 
hame  with  oute  the  stone,  and  anone  she  stode  up  a fayre  woman.” 

2 In  the  ^ Nibelungenlied,’  Sir  Hagan,  seeing  a bevy  of  mermaids 
(“  wise  women”)  disporting  in  the  waters  of  the  Danube,  seizes  upon 
their  raiment,  in  order  to  compel  them  to  disclose  his  fate  and  that 
of  his  companions. — “ The  raiment  of  these  mermaids,”  remarks 
Lettsom,  the  translator,  in  a note,  seems  to  have  been  the  swan- 
raiment  worn  by  the  Valkyries,  or  Choosers  of  the  Slain,  which  enabled 
its  wearers  to  assume  the  shape  of  swans,  or  at  least  to  fly  away. 
Hagan  had  therefore  good  reason  to  begin  with  laying  hands  on  the 
clothes  of  these  water-nymphs.  ...  In  the  traditions  respecting 
Voeund,  Wieland,  or  Wayland,  the  Smith,  that  hero  captures  a wife 
by  a similar  stratagem.” 


184 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


Husn  Banii,  the  royal  hero  obtains  his  fairy  bride  in 
like  manner.  Having  been  carried  off  by  the  Div-i 
Safid  (White  Demon)  to  the  mountains  of  Kaf,  which 
are  the  boundaries  of  the  world/  he  is  left  in  a mag- 
nificent palace,  and  after  examining  all  its  wonders 
his  senses  are  overcome  by  slumber.  The  narrative 
thus  proceeds : And  while  sleep  possessed  him,  the 
fluttering  of  flying  doves  sounded  in  his  ears,  and, 
opening  his  eyes,  he  saw  four  doves  sitting  on  a dome 
of  gold,  each  of  them  as  large  as  a sheep,  and  in  colour 
like  green  emeralds ; and  the  king  was  astonished  at 
the  sight  of  them.  The  doves  flew  off  and  lighted  on 
the  edge  of  the  lake,  and  out  of  every  dove  came  a 
perf,  at  whose  beauty  the  reason  was  confused;  and 
they  put  off  their  dress  on  the  banks  of  the  lake. 
Now  there  was  one  of  these  young  beauties  fair  as  a 
child  of  the  hiirf,^  and  when  the  eyes  of  the  king  fell 
upon  her  beauty  he  loved  and  yearned  towards  her 
with  a thousand  hearts ; he  fainted  at  the  sight  of  her 
grace  and  loveliness.  After  some  time  he  came  again 
to  himself,  and  saw  that  they  had  put  down  their 
dress  on  the  banks  of  the  lake,  and  were  swimming 
and  disporting  themselves  therein.  Now  the  king  had 
heard  from  the  White  Dfv  that  if  a portion  of  the 
garment  on  the  body  of  a perf  be  in  the  possession  of 
any  one,  she  cannot  escape  from  his  power.  Wherefore, 
as  softly  as  he  could,  he  stole  towards  the  dress  of  the 

^ See  note,  p.  81,  for  an  account  of  the  mountains  of  Kaf. 

2 Htiri — commonly  written  in  Europe  houris — are  the  black-eyed 
nymphs  of  Paradise,  according  to  the  Kuran. 


BIED-MAIDENS. 


185 


youngest  fairy,  and  when  he  had  possessed  himself  of 
it  he  hid  himself  in  a cluster  of  roses.  The  fairies 
went  on  with  their  sport  in  the  water  till  the  youngest 
said  to  the  others,  “ They  say  that  the  Div-i  Safid  has 
brought  hither  a king  of  the  race  of  men,  and  that  for 
grace  and  beauty  his  like  was  never  seen  amongst 
mankind ; — let  us  assume  our  dove-form  again,  when 
we  go  out  of  the  water,  and  go  and  look  on  him  from 
a distance.”  Then  said  another,  ''  It  is  even  as  thou 
sayest ; there  is  not  his  like  amongst  the  sons  of  men. 
Now  we  are  young,  and  God  forbid  that  the  king’s 
heart  should  incline  to  one  of  us,  and  we  be  unable 
to  return  his  affection.”  The  youngest  sister  said, 
“ Sister,  thou  hast  spoken  rightly,  and  I myself  have 
had  a very  troubled  dream  concerning  him.”  ''  But,” 
said  the  others  again,  ''  when  we  are  disguised  in  the 
form  of  doves,  he  may  think  what  he  pleases.”  So 
they  all  three  came  out  of  the  water,  and  sat  in  the 
same  tree  where  they  had  been  before.  But  the 
youngest  missed  her  dress,  and  she  drew  a cold  sigh, 
and  cried,  ''  Ah,  sisters,  did  I not  tell  you  I had  a 
troubled  dream  ? See,  here  is  the  meaning  of  my 
dream ! ” Then  they  all  took  flight,  and  left  her  with 
a troubled  heart  and  weeping  eyes.  The  king,  seeing 
this,  came  from  the  hiding-place  he  had  chosen,  and 
made  his  salam  to  her,  and  she,  beholding  the  beauty 
of  King  Bahram,  inclined  towards  him,  and  loved  his 
loveliness  with  a hundred  thousand  hearts. — The  prince 
and  the  peri  are  forthwith  married,  and  afterwards 
borne  by  Tfrits  to  the  capital  of  Persia,  where — to 


186 


POPULAK  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


employ  Shehrazad’s  formula  in  the  ' Arabian  Nights  ’ 
— they  continued  together  in  joy  and  happiness,  until 
they  were  overtaken  by  the  terminater  of  delights  and 
the  separater  of  companions.”  ^ 

Hasan  of  Basra,  in  the  ' Thousand  and  One  Nights,’ 
sees  ten  beautiful  birds  divest  themselves  of  their 
plumage  and  plunge  into  the  water  as  nymphs.  They 
are  the  daughters  of  a powerful  genie.  Hasan  con- 
trives to  steal  the  feathers  of  the  youngest  and  pret- 
tiest of  them,  and  having  married  her,  takes  her  to  his 
own  country.  Some  years  after,  she  discovers  where 
her  husband  had  concealed  her  feather-dress,  and  in 
his  absence  she  puts  it  on,  and  escapes.  Hasan  is 
utterly  wretched  when  he  learns  on  his  return  that 
his  fairy- wife  had  left  him ; but  as  she  had  consider- 
ately left  her  “ address  ” with  his  mother,  he  at  once 
begins  his  perilous  and  tedious  journey  to  Jinnistan, 
the  land  of  the  Genii,  to  bring  her  back.  On  the  way 
he  obtains  shoes  of  swiftness  and  other  useful  magical 
things,  by  means  of  which  he  reaches  his  journey’s 
end,  and  is  reunited  to  his  wife — who,  it  seems,  had 
met  with  but  a scurvy  reception  from  her  relations  on 
her  returning  to  see  them : her  marriage  with  one  of 
human  race  being  considered  by  them  as  “ disgracing 
the  family.”  This  is  one  of  the  best,  as  it  is  among 
the  longest,  stories  in  the  ‘Arabian  Nights.’ 

^ An  Indian  variant  of  this  charming  fairy-tale,  of  which  the  above 
is  a mere  extract,  is  found,  under  the  title  of  The  faithful  Prince,” 
in  Steel  and  Temple’s  ‘Wide-Awake  Stories’  from  the  Panjdb  and 
Kashmir. 


BIRD-MAIDENS. 


187 


The  incident  of  stealing  the  garments  of  bathing 
fairies  is  often  met  with  in  Indian  fictions.  In  the 
Santhali  folk-tale  of  Toria  the  Goatherd  (translated 
by  the  Eev.  F.  T.  Cole,  in  the  'Indian  Antiquary,’ 
1875),  the  beauteous  Daughters  of  the  Sun  were  wont 
to  bathe  in  a river,  on  the  banks  of  which  Toria  fed 
his  goats.  Toria,  having  often  beheld  them  sporting 
in  the  water,  fell  in  love  with  one  of  them,  and  one 
day  taking  possession  of  her  upper  garment,  she  had 
no  alternative  but  to  follow  him  to  his  house  and  be- 
come his  wife. — In  the  ' Katha  Sarit  Sagara,’  a hermit 
says  to  a king’s  minister,  " Go  quickly  and  carry  off 
the  clothes  of  these  [celestial]  nymphs,  and  you  will 
learn  tidings  of  your  master.”  He  does  so,  and  is  suc- 
cessful, as  was  Sir  Hagan  with  the  mermaids  in  the 
' Mbelungenlied.’  ^ In  the  romance  of  ' Helyas,  the 
Knight  of  the  Swan,’  in  place  of  an  upper  garment  or 
feather-dress,  a golden  chain  is  substituted : A young 
knight,  in  eager  pursuit  of  a white  stag,  chased  it  into 
a deep  and  distant  forest,  where  it  escaped.  In  at- 
tempting to  retrace  his  way,  he  came  to  a fountain  in 
which  a beautiful  nymph  was  bathing ; she  held  in  her 
hand  a chain  of  gold,  in  which  lay  her  power : snatch- 
ing away  the  chain,  the  knight  seized  the  nymph,  and 
she  was  constrained  to  become  his  wife. 

"A  hunter  in  Southern  Germany,”  says  Mr  Baring- 
Gould,  " lost  his  wife,  and  was  in  deep  affliction.  He 
went  to  a hermit  and  asked  his  advice ; the  aged  man 
advised  him  to  seek  a lonely  pool,  and  wait  there  till 

^ See  ante,  note,  on  p.  183. 


188 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


he  saw  three  swans  alight  and  despoil  themselves  of 
their  feathers ; then  he  was  to  steal  one  of  the  dresses, 
and  never  return  it,  but  take  the  maiden  whose  was 
the  vesture  of  plumes  to  be  his  wife.  This  the  hunts- 
man did,  and  he  lived  happily  with  the  beautiful 
damsel  for  fifteen  years.  But  one  day  he  forgot  to 
lock  the  cupboard  in  which  he  kept  the  feather-dress : 
the  wife  discovered  it,  put  it  on,  spread  her  wings, 
and  never  returned.^ 

Traces  of  the  same  notion  are  found  in  a rather  con- 
fused Albanian  story  (No.  12  of  DozoiTs  collection),  in 
which  the  hero  gives  his  mother  (a  queen)  the  dress 
of  his  bride,  the  Beauty  of  the  Earth,  with  strict  in- 
junctions not  to  let  her  have  it  during  his  absence. 
One  day,  however,  she  refused  to  dance  unless  she  got 
her  dress,  and  the  queen’s  youngest  daughter  contrived 
to  steal  it  for  her,  and  so  soon  as  she  had  put  it  on, 
she  said  to  her  maidens,  “ Farewell ! Tell  my  husband, 
when  he  returns,  that  he  need  not  hope  to  find  me 
until  he  has  worn  out  three  pairs  of  iron  shoes.”  The 
hero,  in  quest  of  his  bride,  comes  upon  twelve  maidens 
bathing  in  a fountain,  among  whom  was  she  whom  he 
had  sought  so  long,  and  seizing  her  dress  he  burned  it. 
Her  dress,  in  which  lay  her  power,  being  consumed, 

^ ‘ Curious  Myths  of  the  Middle  Ages  ’ : “ Swan-Maidens.”  This  is 
the  Arabian  tale  of  Hasan  of  Basra,  without  his  further  adventures 
in  quest  of  his  fairy-wife. — In  one  of  Ralston’s  ‘Russian  Folk-Tales’ 
the  hero  discovers  on  the  sea-shore  twelve  birds,  which  turn  into 
beautiful  maidens  ; he  steals  the  shift  of  the  eldest,  and  marries  her. 


BIRD-MAIDENS. 


189 


she  could  no  longer  escape,  and  therefore  returned 
with  her  husband.^ 

A somewhat  singular  version  is  current  in  China: 
Once  in  olden  time  a man  named  Ming-ling-tzu,  a 
farmer  in  poor  circumstances,  but  without  any  family, 
had  a well  of  delicious  water  near  his  house.  He  went 
one  day  to  draw  some,  and  when  at  a distance  saw  a 
bright  light  in  the  well : on  approaching  to  see  what 
it  was,  he  beheld  a woman  diving  and  washing  in  the 
water,  who  had  her  clothes  on  a pine-tree.  Being 
displeased  at  her  shameless  ways  and  at  the  well 
being  fouled,  he  secretly  carried  off  her  dress.  The 
garments  were  quite  unlike  Lew-chewan  in  their  style, 
and  were  of  a ruddy  and  russet  colour,  which  excited  his 
surprise,  so  that  he  cautiously  came  back  to  see  what 
change  would  come  about.  The  woman,  finishing  her 
bath,  cried  out  in  great  anger,  ''What  thief  has  been  here 
in  broad  day  ? Bring  back  my  clothes  quickly.’’  She 
then  perceived  the  farmer,  and  threw  herself  on  the 
ground  before  him.  He  began  to  scold  her,  and  asked 
her  why  she  came  and  fouled  his  water ; to  which  she 
replied  that  both  the  pine-tree  and  the  well  were  made 
by  the  Creator  for  the  use  of  all.  The  farmer  entered 
into  conversation  with  her,  and  pointed  out  that  fate 
evidently  intended  her  to  be  his  wife,  as  he  absolutely 
refused  to  give  up  her  clothes,  while  without  them 
she  could  not  get  away.  The  result  was  that  they 
were  married.  She  lived  with  him  for  ten  years,  and 

^ Dozen’s  ‘ Contes  Albanais ’ ; “La  Belle  de  la  Terre.” 


190 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


bore  him  a son  and  a daughter.  At  the  end  of  that 
time  her  fate  was  fulfilled : she  ascended  a tree  during 
the  absence  of  her  husband  [the  narrator  seems  to  have 
omitted  to  say  that  she  had  got  possession  again  of  her 
celestial  garments],  and  having  bidden  her  children 
farewell,  glided  off  in  a cloud  and  disappeared.^ 

The  notion  of  Bird-Maidens  is  also  prevalent  in 
Japan.  Thus  in  a lyrical  drama,  entitled  “ The  Eobe 
of  Feathers,’’  translated  by  Mr  Basil  Hall  Chamber- 
lain,  in  his  ' Classical  Poetry  of  the  Japanese,’  a fisher- 
man discovers  a feather-dress  hanging  from  a tree,  on 
Miho’s  pine-clad  shore,”  and  resolves  to  take  it  home 
that  it  may  be  handed  down  as  an  heirloom.  A fairy 
comes  and  claims  it,  saying  that  without  it  she  ''  never 
more  can  go  soaring  through  the  realms  of  air,  never 
more  can  she  return  to  her  celestial  home.”  The 
fisherman  consents  to  restore  it  on  the  condition  that 
she  dance  before  him.  She  obtains  the  feather-dress, 
promising  to  dance  after  she  has  put  it  on,  which  she 
does,  to  the  great  delight  of  the  fisherman;  and  the 
chorus  describes  her  departure: 

But  ah,  the  hour,  the  hour  of  parting  rings  ! 

Caught  by  the  breeze,  the  fairy’s  magic  wings 


^ Dennys’  ‘Folk-Lore  in  China.’ — Dr  Dennys  remarks  that  he  has 
found  no  trace  of  any  similar  story  in  China  proper,  though  one  may 
exist,  and  “ the  reappearance  of  the  Keltic  legend  in  a group  of  islands 
in  the  China  Sea  [i.e.,  the  Lew-chew  Islands]  is  a noteworthy  pheno- 
menon.” The  idea  of  the  story  may,  however,  have  been  derived 
from  India,  where,  as  we  have  seen,  it  is  generally  current. 


BIED-MAIDENS. 


191 


Heavenward  do  bear  ber  from  the  pine-clad  shore, 

Past  Ukishama’s  widely-stretching  moor, 

Past  Akisdaka’s  heights,  and  where  are  spread 
The  eternal  snows  on  Fusiyama’s  head  ; 

Higher  and  higher  to  the  azure  skies, 

Till  wandering  vapour  hides  her  from  our  eyes. 

Stealing  the  clothes  of  human  damsels  while  they 
are  bathing  is  a very  ancient  stratagem,  and  was 
doubtless  often  practised  in  our  own  country  in  more 
primitive  times.  In  the  Indian  work  entitled  Prem 
Sagar,’  or  Ocean  of  Love,  by  Lallu  ji  lal  Kavi,  we  read 
that  Sri  Krishmi — who  is  represented  as  an  incarna- 
tion of  Vishnu — purloined  the  garments  of  a party  of 
pretty  cowherdesses,  who  were  bathing  in  the  river 
Argun,  and  carried  them  to  the  top  of  a kunduna-tr^Q. 
When  the  damsels  discovered  their  loss,  they  set  up 
loud  lamentations,  and  espying  Krishmi  in  his  hiding- 
place,  earnestly  begged  him  to  restore  their  clothes, 
wdiich  he  refused  to  do  except  upon  the  condition 
that  they  should  come  out  of  the  water  one  by  one 
and  claim  their  garments. — A similar  trick  is  recorded 
of  the  celebrated  pre- Islamite  Arabian  poet -prince 
Imra-el-Kays,  according  to  the  note  prefixed  to  Sir 
William  Jones’ translation  of  his  famous  'Mu'allaka,’ 
or  prize -poem,  so  called  because  it  had  the  honour 
of  being  suspended  in  the  temple  at  Mecca. 


192 


SUBAQUEOUS  FAIRY  HALLS:  FORBIDDEN  ROOMS: 

CUPID  AND  PSYCHE  LEGENDS. 

rpHE  dwellings  of  fairies,  according  to  the  folk-lore 
of  most  countries,  are  frequently  splendid  sub- 
aqueous halls  or  palaces,  adorned  with  the  most  bril- 
liant gems,  and  with  couches  of  pure  gold.  ''  Man- 
kind,” it  has  been  remarked,  have  in  all  ages  delighted 
to  find  their  own  image  in  all  the  parts  of  space.  It 
is  in  consequence  of  this  propensity  that  we  find  so 
frequently  human  beings,  or  divinities  like  men  in 
form,  represented  as  dwelling  beneath  the  sea,  or  with- 
in the  waters  of  rivers  or  fountains.  In  Homer  the 
submarine  cavern  of  Heptune  at  JEgSQ  is  described  in 
the  13th  Iliad ; and  that  in  which  Thetis  and  Eury- 
nome  concealed  Vulcan,  in  the  18th.  The  only  ac- 
counts given  by  the  ancient  poets  of  the  descent  of 
mortals  into  these  aqueous  abodes  are,  that  of  Hylas, 
of  which  the  best  account  occurs  in  the  13th  Idy Ilium  of 
Theocritus,  and  that  of  Aristseus  in  the  4th  book 
of  the  Georgies  of  Virgil.”^ 

^ Notes  to  Croker’s  ‘ Fairy  Legends  and  Traditions  of  the  South  of 
Ireland.  ’ 


SUBAQUEOUS  FAIRY  HALLS. 


193 


It  is  a very  common  occurrence  for  the  heroes  of 
popular  tales  to  plunge  boldly  into  a lake  or  fountain, 
and  lo ! they  are  in  fairyland.  In  Berni’s  ^ Orlando 
Innamorato,’  the  renowned  and  dauntless  hero  throws 
himself  into  a lake,  and  ''finds  himself  in  another 
world  ’’  (which  has  happened,  in  a different  sense,  to 
others,  before  and  since  !),  standing  upon  a dry  meadow, 
with  the  lake  overhead,  through  which  shone  the  beams 
of  our  sun,  the  meadow  being  on  all  sides  surrounded 
by  a crystal  wall.  After  slaying  his  foe,  Orlando  dis- 
covers a gate  in  the  crystal  wall,  and,  having  passed 
through  the  dark  labyrinth,  comes  at  last  to  where  the 
place  is  lighted  by  a large  carbuncle,  the  lustre  of 
which  was  equal  to  that  of  day.  This  discovered  to 
his  view  a river  little  less  than  twenty  yards  broad, 
and  beyond  this  he  saw  a field  as  thickly  covered  with 
precious  stones  (the  " flowers  ” of  the  fairy  mead)  as 
the  sky  is  full  of  stars. 

According  to  Irish  legendary  lore,  there  is  (or  was) 
in  the  south  of  Ireland  a lake  in  which  many  young 
men  were  drowned,  and,  strange  to  say,  their  bodies 
were  never  recovered.  On  dark  nights  its  waters 
seemed  like  a flaming  fire ; horrid  forms  were  seen  to 
glide  over  it,  and  the  air  in  its  neighbourhood  had 
then  a sulphureous  smell.  In  old  times  there  dwelt, 
not  far  from  this  lake,  a young  farmer  named  Eoderick 
Keating,  who  was  about  to  be  married  to  the  prettiest 
girl  in  the  whole  district,  who  rejoiced  in  the  name  of 
Peggy  Honan.  It  happened  one  day  he  had  just  re- 
turned from  Limerick,  where  he  had  been  to  buy  the 

VOL.  I. 


N 


194 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


wedding-ring,  and  was  standing  on  the  border  of  the 
lake,  chatting  with  some  young  fellows  of  his  own  age, 
who  began  to  chaff  ” him  about  Peggy  Honan,  saying 
that  his  rival  Delaney  had  won  her  affections  and  “ put 
his  eye  out.”  Keating,  knowing  better,  took  the  wed- 
ding-ring out  of  his  pocket  and  showed  it  to  them  ; but 
while  he  was  toying  with  it,  the  ring  slipped  from  his 
fingers  and  fell  into  the  lake ! Keating  was  greatly 
concerned  at  this  accident,  not  because  of  the  pecuni- 
ary loss,  for  that  was  a trifle,  but  because  it  was  omi- 
nous of  ill-luck.  He  offered  five  pounds  to  any  one 
who  would  dive  into  the  lake  and  fetch  up  the  ring, 
but  all  the  youths  declined  the  venture,  when  a half- 
crazy fellow  called  Paddeen  agreed  to  dive  after  it — 
not  being  able  to  resist  so  great  a bribe.  So  he  pulls 
off  his  coat  and  down  he  plunges  head-foremost  into 
the  lake.  What  depth  he  went  nobody  knows,  but 
he  went  down,  down,  down  through  the  water,  until 
it  parted  from  him  and  he  came  upon  dry  land ; and 
the  sky,  the  sunlight,  and  everything  was  there  just  as 
it  is  here ; and  he  saw  fine  pleasure-grounds,  with  an 
elegant  avenue  through  them,  and  a grand  house,  with 
many  steps  going  up  to  the  door.  When  he  had  re- 
covered from  his  wonder  at  finding  the  land  so  dry 
and  comfortable  under  the  water,  he  looked  about  him, 
and  what  should  he  see  but  all  the  young  men  that 
were  drowned,  working  away  in  the  pleasure-grounds 
as  if  nothing  had  ever  happened  to  them.  Some  of 
them  were  mowing  down  the  grass,  and  more  were 
setting  out  the  gravel- walks,  and  doing  all  manner  of 


SUBAQUEOUS  FAIRY  HALLS. 


195 


nice  work  as  neat  as  if  they  had  never  been  drowned. 
Well,  when  he  had  neared  the  door  of  the  house,  out 
walks  a great  fat  woman,  with  teeth  as  big  as  horses’  (!), 
and  after  mutual  salutations,  ''  What  have  you  come 
here  for  ? ” asks  this  obese  fairy.  Quoth  Paddeen, 
as  bold  as  you  please,  “For  Eory  Keating’s  ring.” 
“ Here  it  is,”  says  she,  at  the  same  time  handing  him 
the  ring.  “ Will  you  please  tell  me,”  then  says  Pad- 
deen, ‘‘  am  I to  go  back  the  same  way  as  I came  ? ” 
“ Then,”  says  the  fairy,  ''  you’re  not  going  to  marry 
me  ? ” Wait  till  I come  back  again,”  says  Paddeen, 
for  he  knew  she  had  lost  her  power  over  him  by  part- 
ing with  the  ring ; I’ve  got  to  get  paid  for  bringing 
back  this  ring:  but  I’ll  be  sure  to  come  back  and 
marry  you.”  And  here  Paddeen  began  to  edge  away 
from  the  house,  and  at  length  he  came  to  the  water, 
and  going  up  through  it,  he  arrived  safely  at  a rock  on 
the  borders  of  the  lake.^ 

In  the  Persian  romance  which  purports  to  recount 
the  adventures  of  the  celebrated  Arab  chief  Hatim  Tai, 
the  self-denying  hero,  coming  to  a large  city,  finds  the 
people  all  gathered  round  the  mouth  of  a well.  In- 
quiring the  cause  of  their  assemblage,  he  learns  that 
the  son  of  their  chief  magistrate  had  gone  mad,  and 
was  in  the  habit  of  frequenting  this  well,  and  at  length 
had  thrown  himself  into  it : ''  Three  days  have  we 
looked  for  him  here,  but  we  have  found  no  trace  of 
him,  and  none  of  our  people  will  venture  into  the 

^ Adapted  from  Croker’s  ‘ Fairy  Legends  of  the  South  of  Ireland.  ’ 


196 


POPULAK  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


well.’’  Hatim  readily  undertakes  to  go  down  into  the 
well  in  quest  of  the  lost  youth,  and  the  people  agree  to 
remain  there  until  he  returns.  No  sooner  has  he  leaped 
down  ten  feet  than  he  finds  himself  on  firm  ground, 
and,  looking  about,  sees  no  well,  but  an  extensive  plain. 
Coming  to  a garden,  the  doors  of  which  stand  invit- 
ingly open,  he  enters,  and  discovers  in  its  midst  a mag- 
nificent palace  (in  fact,  such  as  are  only  to  be  found 
beneath  enchanted  wells),  and  within  he  sees  fairies  re- 
clining upon  couches  which  would  beggar  description. 
Conspicuous  amidst  all  this  splendour  are  two  thrones 
of  burnished  gold,  on  one  of  which  sat  the  fairy  queen, 
on  the  other  a young  man  of  noble  aspect.  After 
Hatim  had  partaken  of  refreshments,  the  youth  in- 
formed him  that  he  was  one  day  seated  at  the  mouth 
of  the  well,  when  the  heart-ravishing  queen  of  the 
fairies  appeared,  and,  bewildered  with  her  beauty,  he 
lost  his  reason  (he  probably  had  not  much  to  lose), 
and  for  days  lingered  near  the  well,  in  hopes  of 
seeing  her  fairy  majesty  once  more,  and  being  disap- 
pointed he  plunged  in,  and  on  opening  his  eyes  found 
himself  in  this  paradise.  Hatim  prevails  upon  the 
fairy  queen  to  allow  the  youth  to  return  with  him  to 
his  parents,  and  to  promise  to  visit  him  personally; 
and  so  he  restores  the  infatuated  youth  to  his  sorrow- 
ing relatives.! 

In  the  7th  Tale  of  the  ancient  Indian  romance, 

^ It  is  a popular  belief  in  Persia  that  near  the  city  of  Kashan  there 
is  a well  of  unfathomable  depth,  at  the  bottom  of  which  are  enchanted 
groves  and  gardens. 


SUBAQUEOUS  FAIKY  HALLS. 


197 


‘ Twenty-five  Tales  of  a Demon  ’ (Vetala  Panchavin- 
sati)/  the  hero  falls  into  the  sea,  and,  looking  about 
him,  finds  he  is  in  a grand  city,  with  palaces  of  gold, 
supported  on  pillars  of  jewels,  adorned  with  gardens, 
in  which  were  tanks  with  steps  composed  entirely  of 
precious  gems. — One  of  the  earliest  extant  fairy  tales 
of  subaqueous  halls  is,  perhaps,  that  contained  in  the 
6th  Fable  of  the  second  chapter  of  the  'Hitopadesa’ 
(Friendly  Counsel).  Professor  Johnson  has  trans- 
lated it  as  follows : ''  One  day  as  I was  in  the  pleas- 
ure-garden I heard  from  a voyaging  merchant  that 
on  the  fourteenth  day  of  the  month,  in  the  midst  of 
the  sea  which  was  near,  beneath  what  had  the  appear- 
ance of  a kalpa-tree,  there  was  to  be  seen  seated  on  a 
couch  variegated  with  the  lustre  of  strings  of  jewels, 
a certain  damsel,  as  it  were  the  goddess  Lakshmi,  be- 
decked with  all  kinds  of  ornaments,  and  playing  on  a 
lute.  I therefore  took  the  voyaging  merchant,  and, 
having  embarked  in  a ship,  went  to  the  place  specified. 
On  reaching  the  spot,  I saw  her  exactly  as  she  had 
been  described,  and,  allured  by  her  exquisite  beauty, 
I leaped  after  her  into  the  sea.  In  an  instant  I 
reached  a golden  city,  where,  in  a palace  of  gold,  I 
saw  her  reclining  on  a couch,  and  waited  on  by 
youthful  sylphs.  When  she  perceived  me  at  a dis- 
tance she  sent  a female  friend,  who  addressed  me 


^ A Sanskrit  work  of  very  great  antiquity,  which  is  now  incor- 
porated with  the  ‘Kathd,  Sarit  S^gara,’  and  of  which  there  exist 
versions  in  most  of  the  vernacular  languages  of  India — Bengali,  Hindi, 
Tamil,  Mahratta,  etc. 


198 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


courteously.  On  my  inquiry,  her  friend  said,  ' That 
is  Eatna-Manjari,  the  daughter  of  Kandarpa  Keli, 
king  of  the  Vidyaharas.  She  has  made  a vow  to  this 
effect : ''  Whosoever  shall  come  and  see  the  city  of  gold 
with  his  own  eyes,  shall  marry  me.”  ’ Accordingly  I 
married  her  by  that  form  of  marriage  called  Gand- 
harva,^  after  the  conclusion  of  which  I remained  there 
a long  while  delighted  with  her.  One  day  she  said  to 
me  in  private,  ' My  beloved  husband,  all  these  things 
may  be  freely  enjoyed ; but  that  picture  of  the  fairy 
Swarna-rekha  must  never  be  touched.’  Some  time  after- 
wards, my  curiosity  being  excited,  I touched  Swarna- 
rekha  with  my  hand.  For  doing  so  I was  spurned  by 
her,  although  only  a picture,  with  her  foot  beautiful 
as  the  lotus,  and  found  myself  alighted  in  my  own 
country.” 

This  last  is  not  only  curious  as  being  one  of  the  old- 
est specimens  of  fairy  tales,  but  it  is  closely  allied  to 
stories  of  forbidden  rooms,  the  entrance  into  which 
is  immediately  followed  by  severe  punishment.  The 

Blue  Chamber  ” in  our  nursery  tale  of  the  terrible 
Bluebeard  (which  came  to  us  from  the  French — from 
Perrault’s  story  of  ''  La  Barbe  Bleue  ”)  will  readily  occur 
to  the  reader,  first  and  foremost,  among  his  reminis- 
cences of  forbidden  rooms.^  And  numerous  other 

^ In  which  the  parties  exchange  flowers. 

2 ‘‘The  treasure-house  of  Ixion,  which  none  may  enter  without 
being  either  destroyed,  like  Hesioneus,  or  betrayed  by  marks  of  gold 
or  blood,  reappears,”  says  Cox,  “ in  a vast  number  of  popular  stories, 
and  is  the  foundation  of  the  story  of  Bluebeard.” — ‘Mythology  of 
the  Aryan  Nations,’  vol.  ii.  p.  36. 


THE  FOKBIDDEN  EOOM. 


199 


instances  might  be  cited  from  the  fairy  tales  of 
Europe,  especially  those  written  in  France  during  the 
seventeenth  century,  and  afterwards  translated  into 
our  own  and  other  European  languages.  In  No.  41  of 
Campbelhs  'Popular  Tales  of  the  West  Highlands’ 
(vol.  i.  pp.  265-275)  we  have  not  only  a "Bluebeard’s 
Chamber,”  but  also  a curious  example  of  "grateful 
animals  ” : Three  daughters  of  a poor  man  enter  a 
forbidden  room,  which  is  full  of  dead  gentlewomen,  and 
get  themselves  stained  knee-deep  with  blood ; two  of 
the  sisters  refuse  to  give  the  cat  a little  milk,  and 
have  their  heads  cut  off ; but  the  third  makes  friends 
with  poor  puss,  who  licks  off  the  blood,  and  so  she 
escapes  detection. 

In  Eastern  fictions,  however,  the  forbidden  chamber 
does  not  generally  contain  anything  horrifying  to  the 
person  whose  curiosity  has  been  unable  to  resist  the 
injunction.  A story  in  the  romance  of  the  ' King  and 
his  Seven  Vazirs’  has  two  forbidden  rooms.  A young 
man,  having  wasted  his  patrimony,  enters  the  employ- 
ment of  ten  old  men  who  live  together  in  a fine 
palace,  until  one  after  another  dies,  and  the  tenth, 
feeling  his  end  near,  calls  the  youth  to  his  couch,  and, 
bequeathing  him  the  palace  with  all  its  wealth,  warns 
him  on  no  account  to  open  a certain  door,  since  if  he 
did  so  he  would  repent  it  all  his  life.  As  usual,  the 
young  man’s  curiosity  is  not  to  be  restrained.  He 
opens  the  door,  and  finds  himself  in  a long,  dark 
passage,  which  leads  him  to  the  sea-shore,  where  a 
huge  eagle,  darting  down,  seizes  him,  and  flying  up 


200 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


high  into  the  air,  finally  descends  with  him  upon  a 
desolate  island.  He  is  rescued  by  a passing  vessel, 
and  reaches  a country,  the  queen  of  which  offers  him 
marriage,  which  he  gladly  accepts.  The  queen  informs 
him  that  all  her  treasures  are  now  at  his  disposal ; but 
he  must  “avoid  yonder  door;  if  thou  dost  open  it, 
thou  wilt  repent  when  it  is  too  late.”  The  new  king 
lived  happily  with  his  lovely  bride  for  some  time, 
until,  “ tempted  by  the  Evil  One,”  he  opens  the  fatal 
door,  finds  himself  in  a dark  passage  as  before,  and  the 
same  eagle  which  had  borne  him  away  from  the  palace 
of  the  old  men  sweeps  down  and  carries  him  back  to 
the  spot  where  he  had  been  first  taken  up.  The  rest 
of  his  life  was  spent  in  vain  regrets.  As  the  author 
says,  “he  never  smiled  again.” 

Perhaps  among  forbidden  rooms  in  Eastern  stories 
that  which  figures  in  the  Arabian  tale  of  the  Third 
Eoyal  Mendicant  (or  Calender,  as  in  our  common 
translation)  is  most  familiar  to  the  general  reader. 
“We  deliver  to  thee,”  said  the  fairies,  when  they  were 
about  to  leave  him  for  a season,  “the  keys  of  the 
palace,  which  are  a hundred  in  number,  belonging  to 
a hundred  closets.  Open  each  of  these,  and  amuse 
thyself,  and  eat  and  drink  and  refresh  thyself,  except 
the  closet  that  hath  a door  of  red  gold ; for  if  thou 
open  this,  the  consequence  will  be  a separation  be- 
tween us  and  thee.”  After  having  opened  all  the 
other  doors,  and  admired  the  rare  splendour  within 
each  of  the  rooms,  he  had  not  patience  to  abstain  from 
opening  the  forbidden  closet ; so  he  opened  the  door. 


THE  FORBIDDEN  ROOM. 


201 


and  when  he  entered  he  found  the  place  illuminated 
by  golden  lamps,  and  by  candles,  which  diffused  the 
odours  of  musk  and  ambergris.  He  saw  there  a black 
horse,  saddled  and  bridled,  and  wondering  at  the  sight, 
led  him  out  and  mounted  him,  and  having  struck  him, 
the  horse  uttered  a sound  like  thunder,  and  expand- 
ing a pair  of  wings,  soared  with  me  to  an  immense 
height  through  the  air,  and  then  alighted  upon  the 
roof  of  another  palace,  where  he  threw  me  from  his 
back,  and  by  a violent  blow  with  his  tail  upon  my 
face,  struck  out  my  eye  and  left  me.” 

These  incidents  were  evidently  imitated  from  the 
story  of  Saktideva,  in  the  'Katha  Sarit  Sagara,’  in 
which  the  hero’s  fairy  bride,  having  to  separate  from 
him  for  a period,  gives  him  strict  charge  never  to 
ascend  the  middle  terrace  of  the  palace.  Impelled  by 
curiosity,  however,  he  enters,  sees  much  to  marvel  at, 
and,  going  out  to  the  lake,  a horse  with  a jewelled 
saddle : trying  to  mount  it,  he  was  struck  with  its  heel, 
and  flung  into  the  lake.  Eising  up,  to  his  astonishment 
he  finds  himself  standing  in  the  middle  of  a garden- 
lake  of  his  own  city  of  Vardhamana.  And  in  the 
same  work  (story  of  Nagasvamin  and  the  Witches), 
a Yakshini,  who  had  married  the  hero,  commands  him 
not  to  visit  the  middle  block  of  buildings  of  her 
palace  after  she  has  gone  away ; but  he  does  so,  and 
there  saw  a horse,  and  going  up  to  him,  the  horse 
kicked  him,  and  immediately  he  finds  himself  in  a 
temple  of  Siva. 

Mr  Ealston,  in  his  ' Eussian  Folk-Tales,’  has  pointed 


202 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


out  that  in  a modern  Greek  story  (Hahn’s  collection, 
vol.  ii.  p.  197)  the  hero  discovers  in  the  41st  room  of  a 
castle  belonging  to  a Drakos,  who  had  given  him  leave 
to  enter  40  of  them,  a magic  horse,  and  before  the  door 
of  the  room  a pool  of  gold,  in  which  he  becomes  gilded. 
In  another  story  (same  collection),  the  40th  is  the  for- 
bidden room,  in  which  is  a lake,  and  swan-maidens 
bathing  therein.  In  a third  story,  the  40  th  room 
contains  a golden  horse,  and  a golden  dog,  which 
assist  the  bold  liberator.  And  in  a fourth  story,  he 
finds  a fair  maiden,  shining  like  the  sun,  whom  the 
demon-proprietor  had  hung  up  within  by  the  hair. 

In  an  Italian  tale  (from  Pisa),  cited  by  Mr  H.  C. 
Coote  in  'The  Folk-Lore  Eecord,’  vol.  i.  pp.  196,  197,  a 
woodman  receives  from  a lady  in  the  forest  an  in- 
exhaustible purse,  on  his  consenting  to  give  her  one  of 
his  daughters  for  a companion.  The  eldest  girl  being 
sent,  the  lady  takes  her  away  to  a magnificent  palace. 
" See,”  said  she,  " thou  art  mistress  here ; I go  away  in 
the  morning,  and  return  in  the  evening.  These  are  the 
keys  of  the  whole  palace ; I only  forbid  thee  to  enter 
this  room,”  and  she  showed  a closed  door.  The  girl’s 
curiosity  impels  her  to  enter  the  forbidden  room,  where 
she  sees  the  lady  in  a bath,  and  two  damsels  reading  to 
her.  She  shuts  the  door  again  directly,  but  when  the 
lady  comes  home  she  calls  to  her,  saying,  " Thou  hast 
disobeyed.  Let  me  hear  what  thou  hast  seen.”  The 
girl,  being  quite  confounded,  then  related  what  she  had 
seen,  upon  which  the  lady,  without  saying  another 


THE  FOKBIDDEN  EOOM. 


203 


word,  took  her,  cut  off  her  head,  fastened  it  to  a beam 
by  the  hair,  and  buried  the  body.  The  lady  then  gets 
the  woodman’s  second  daughter  to  come,  on  the  pretext 
of  her  being  a companion  to  the  other,  and  the  same 
happens  to  her.  But  the  third,  though  she  also  entered 
the  fatal  room,  stoutly  denied  having  seen  anything. 
And  when  the  lady  saw  that  the  girl  was  so  obstinate, 
she  made  her  put  on  again  her  peasant’s  clothes,  and 
sent  her  into  the  forest  to  go  about  her  business.^ 

Forbidden  rooms  occur  frequently  in  the  Norse 
tales ; for  example : In  the  story  of  the  Widow’s  Son 
(Dasent’s  collection),  the  hero  takes  service  with  a 
man,  who,  on  going  away  for  eight  days,  warns  him 
not  to  enter  one  of  four  rooms  which  he  indicates  to 
him ; — if  he  did  so,  the  man  would  take  his  life  when 
he  came  back.  But  the  youth,  after  his  master  has 
been  gone  a few  days,  goes  into  the  first  room,  where 
he  sees  nothing  but  a bramble-bush  rod  on  a shelf. 
When  the  man  comes  home,  he  soon  discovers  that 
the  room  had  been  entered,  and  gave  the  youth  only  a 
sound  thrashing,  as  he  pled  hard  for  his  life.  Again 
the  man  goes  away,  and  cautions  him  as  before ; but 
the  youth  could  not  resist  the  curiosity  he  felt  to  ex- 
amine the  second  room,  in  which  he  finds  a big  stone 
and  a pitcher  of  water  on  a shelf.  On  the  return  of 
his  master,  he  found  that  the  second  room  had  been 

^ This  story  seems  imperfect ; at  least  it  is  a very  peculiar  member 
of  the  ‘‘  Forbidden  Room  ” cycle  of  folk-tales. — In  a Japanese  story, 
the  hero  receives  a casket  which  would  give  him  everything  he  wished 
for,  and  even  conferred  on  him  immortal  youth,  so  long  as  it  remained 
unopened. 


204 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


entered,  and  once  more  gave  the  hero  a severe  beating. 
He  goes  off  a third  time,  and  the  lad  looks  into  the 
third  room,  where  he  sees  a trap-door  in  the  floor,  and 
on  lifting  it  there  was  a great  copper  cauldron  that 
bubbled  and  boiled  away  down  below,  but  he  could 
see  no  fire  under  it.  He  dips  his  finger  into  the  broth, 
and  when  he  drew  it  out,  behold,  it  was  gilded  all 
over.  He  scraped  and  scrubbed  it,  but  the  gilding 
w^ould  not  go  off,  so  he  tied  a rag  round  it : but  when 
his  master  came  back,  he  saw  the  rag  on  his  finger, 
and  tearing  it  off,  at  once  saw  where  he  had  been. 
This  time  he  gave  our  hero  such  a thrashing  that  he 
had  to  keep  his  bed  three  days,  after  which  his  master 
rubbed  him  over  with  some  ointment,  and  he  was  as 
sound  and  fresh  as  ever.  Once  more  the  man  goes 
away,  and  the  hero  entered  the  fourth  room,  where  he 
saw  a great  black  horse,  tied  up  in  a stall  by  himself, 
with  a manger  full  of  red-hot  coals  at  his  head  and  a 
truss  of  hay  at  his  tail;  so  he  changed  them  about, 
and  put  the  hay  at  the  horse’s  head.  Then  the  horse 
told  him  that  for  this  kindness  he  would  enable  him 
to  escape ; for  should  his  master  (who  was  a troll) 
come  back  and  find  him  there,  he  would  surely  kill 
him.  So,  acting  on  the  advice  of  the  horse,  the  hero 
got  into  the  cauldron  in  the  third  room,  and  came  out 
feeling  very  strong ; then  taking  from  the  other  rooms 
the  stone,  the  pitcher  of  water,  and  the  bramble-bush 
rod,  he  got  on  the  back  of  the  horse  and  galloped  off. 
The  troll  returns,  and  instantly  pursues  him,  but  the 
rod,  stone,  and  water,  thrown  successively  behind. 


CUPID  AND  PSYCHE  LEGENDS. 


205 


raise  a thicket,  a mountain,  and  a great  lake,  and  so 
the  hero  makes  good  his  escape.^ 

Possibly  some  readers  may  be  disposed  to  consider 
such  wild  tales  as  distorted  traditions  of  the  Pall  of 
Man ; others  may  see  in  them  only  dreams  induced 
by  hashish,  or  some  other  narcotic  which  forms  the 
Paradise  of  Pools ! 


The  beautiful  story  of  Cupid  and  Psyche,  which 
forms  an  episode  of  the  ' Golden  Ass  ’ of  Apuleius,  and 
which  has  been  so  charmingly  rendered  into  English 
verse  by  Mrs  Tighe,  has  a near  affinity  with  stories  of 
forbidden  rooms.  Cupid  consents  to  pass  the  nights 
with  Psyche,  on  the  condition  that  she  does  not  at- 
tempt to  see  him ; and  for  some  time  the  lovers  are 
happy  in  their  reciprocal  affection,  until  Psyche’s  two 
sisters,  whom  she  acquaints  of  her  happiness,  at  the 
same  time  of  her  never  having  seen  her  lover,  urge  her 
to  break  the  condition,  declaring  their  belief  that  her 
lover  is  a serpent.  Psyche  one  night  took  a lamp  to 
look  at  Cupid,  and,  in  her  agitation  on  beholding  his 
beauty,  allowed  a drop  of  oil  to  fall  upon  him,  which 
awoke  him,  and  immediately  Cupid  and  the  palace  dis- 
appeared, and  Psyche  found  herself  in  the  wilderness, 
where  she  was  before  her  union  with  her  lover. — Dun- 
lop History  of  Piction,’  chap,  iii.)  has  the  jocular  re- 

^ The  reader  will  find  this  cycle  of  folk-tales  ably  treated  in  a paper 
by  Mr  E.  Sidney  Hartland,  entitled  “The  Forbidden  Chamber,”  in 
‘The  Folk-Lore  Journal/  vol.  iii.  pp.  193-242. 


206 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


mark  that  Psyche  ought  to  have  had  sufficient  reason 
to  know  that  her  lover  was  not  a serpent ; but  it  seems 
to  me  that  the  suspicion,  real  or  affected,  of  her  sisters 
points  to  the  Eastern  origin  of  the  story.  In  many  In- 
dian  stories  we  read  of  a serpent-deity  who,  assuming 
/ the  human  form,  took  a mortal  maiden  for  his  wife,  and 
disappeared  each  morning  before  daybreak ; and  some- 
times the  maiden,  learning  the  nature  of  her  lover,  de- 
stroyed his  serpent-skin  while  he  slept,  thus  compelling 
him  to  continue  in  his  human  shape.  On  the  other 
/ hand,  European  as  well  as  Asiatic  folk-lore  abounds 
^ in  stories  of  maidens  being  wedded  to  serpents  and 
frogs,  which  the  nuptial  couch  miraculously  changed 
into  handsome  princes  — they  having  been  doomed 
to  remain  in  such  loathsome  forms  until  espoused  by 
beautiful  damsels.  Our  nursery  tale  of  Beauty  and 
the  Beast,  and  the  German  tale  (in  Grimm's  collection) 
of  the  Frog  Prince,  are  familiar  instances.^ 

The  first  part  of  the  Norse  tale, ''  East  o'  the  Sun  and 
West  o'  the  Moon,"  comprises  exact  parallels  to  these 
incidents  in  the  Cupid  and  Psyche  legend:  A girl  is 
married  to  a White  Bear,  who  takes  her  to  a grand 
palace,  and  when  she  has  retired  to  rest  she  finds  a 
man  beside  her ; — “ that  was  the  White  Bear,  who 
threw  off  his  beast-shape  at  night ; but  she  never  saw 
him,  for  he  always  came  after  the  light  was  put  out, 

^ Another  instance  is  found  in  Crane’s  ‘Italian  Popular  Tales,’ 
“Zelinda  and  the  Monster”:  by  her  consenting  to  marry  him,  he 
becomes  a very  handsome  youth. 


CUPID  AND  PSYCHE  LEGENDS. 


207 


and  before  the  day  dawned  he  was  up  and  off  again/’ 
After  some  time  thus  spent,  the  girl  asks  the  White 
Bear’s  leave  to  visit  her  parents,  which  he  grants,  but 
warns  her  not  to  have  any  private  conversation  with 
her  mother.  But  she  could  not  resist  her  mother’s 
importunity,  and  told  her,  one  day,  how  a man  slept 
beside  her  every  night,  but  she  had  never  seen  him, 
for  he  always  got  up  and  went  away  before  daylight. 
Her  mother  advises  her  to  take  a small  piece  of  candle 
with  her  to  bed,  and  light  it  while  he  was  asleep ; but 
she  was  to  take  care  not  to  drop  the  tallow  on  him. 
The  girl  returns  on  the  back  of  the  White  Bear,  and  in 
answer  to  his  inquiries,  stoutly  denies  having  had  any 
private  conference  with  her  mother.  At  night,  when 
the  man  is  fast  asleep  beside  her,  she  lights  the  candle, 
and  lets  the  light  shine  upon  him — and  so  she  saw  he 
was  the  loveliest  prince  one  ever  set  eyes  on,  and  she 
fell  so  deep  in  love  with  him  on  the  spot,  that  she 
thought  she  should  die  if  she  didn’t  give  him  a kiss 
there  and  then.  And  so  she  did ; but  as  she  kissed 
him,  she  dropped  three  drops  of  hot  tallow  on  his 
shirt,  and  he  woke  up.”  He  then  tells  her  that  she 
has  thus  undone  them  both,  for  had  she  held  out  only 
that  one  year  he  had  been  freed — his  step-mother 
having  bewitched  him,  so  that  he  was  a White  Bear 
by  day  and  a man  by  night.  ''  Next  morning,  when 
she  woke  up,  both  prince  and  castle  were  gone ; and 

^ This  incident  reappears  in  the  Danish  story  of  ‘‘Prince  Hatt 
under  the  Hill,”  in  Thorpe’s  ‘ Yule-Tide  Stories  ’ (Bohn’s  ed.,  p.  23), 
and  in  No.  281  of  Pitre’s  collection  of  Sicilian  tales. 


208 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


there  she  lay  on  a little  green  patch  in  the  midst 
of  the  gloomy  thick  wood,  and  by  her  side  lay  the 
same  bundle  of  rags  she  had  brought  with  her  from 
her  father’s  home.”  ^ 

This  charming  legend — the  most  delightful,  perhaps, 
of  all  fairy  tales,  not  even  excepting  that  of  Cinderella 
— is  known  all  over  the  world,  and  is  certainly  very 
ancient.  The  following  is  a Sicilian  version  preserved 
to  the  present  day  by  oral  tradition : A man  and  his 
youngest  daughter,  gathering  wild  herbs,  came  to  a 
garden,  where  the  girl  saw  a fine  radish  and  began  to 
pull  it  up,  when  suddenly  a Turk  appeared  and  said, 
''  Why  have  you  opened  my  master’s  door  ? You  must 
come  in  now,  and  he  will  decide  on  your  punishment.” 
They  went  down  into  the  ground,  more  dead  than  alive, 
and  when  they  were  seated  they  saw  a green  bird  come 
in  and  bathe  in  a pan  of  milk,  then  dry  itself  and 
become  a handsome  youth.  He  said  to  the  Turk, 
“ What  do  these  persons  want  ? ” Your  worship,  they 
pulled  up  a radish  and  opened  the  door  of  the  cave.” 

How  did  we  know,”  said  the  father,  that  this  was 
your  Excellency’s  house  ? My  daughter  saw  a fine 
radish,  it  pleased  her,  and  she  pulled  it  up.”  Well, 
if  that’s  the  case,”  said  the  master,  “your  daughter 
shall  stay  here  as  my  wife — take  this  sack  of  gold  and 
go:  when  you  want  to  see  your  daughter,  come  and 
make  yourself  at  home.”  The  father  took  leave  of  his 

^ Dasent’s  ‘Popular  Tales  from  the  Norse.*  Second  edition, 
pp.  27,  30,  31. 


CUPID  AND  PSYCHE  LEGENDS. 


209 


daughter  and  went  away.  When  the  master  was  alone  ' 
with  her,  he  said,  ''  You  see,  Eosella,  you  are  now 
mistress  here,”  and  gave  her  all  the  keys.  She  was 
perfectly  happy.  One  day,  while  the  green  bird  was 
away,  her  (two)  sisters  took  it  into  their  heads  to  visit 
her,  and  asked  her  about  her  husband.  Eosella  said 
she  did  not  know,  for  he  had  made  her  promise  not  to 
try  to  find  out  who  he  was.  Her  sisters,  however, 
persuaded  her,  and  when  the  bird  returned  and  became 
a man,  Eosella  put  on  a downcast  air.  What  is  the 
matter  ? ” asked  her  husband.  ''  Nothing.”  ''  You  had 
better  tell  me.”  She  let  him  question  her  a while, 
and  at  last  said,  Well,  then,  if  you  want  to  know 
why  I am  out  of  sorts,  it  is  because  I wish  to  know 
your  name.”  Her  husband  told  her  that  it  would  be 
the  worse  for  her,  but  she  insisted  on  knowing  his 
name.  So  he  made  her  put  the  gold  basin  on  a chair, 
and  began  to  bathe  his  feet.  Eosella,  do  you  really 
want  to  know  my  name  ? ” Yes.”  And  the  water 
came  up  to  his  waist,  for  he  had  become  a bird  and 
had  got  into  the  basin.  Then  he  asked  her  the  same 
question  again  and  again,  and  again  she  answered  yes, 
and  the  water  was  up  to  his  mouth.  “ Eosella,  do  you 
really  want  to  know  my  name?”  'Wes!  Yes! 
Yes ! ” Then  know  that  I am  called  The  King  of  | 
Love  ! ” And  saying  this,  he  disappeared,  and  the 
basin  and  the  palace  disappeared  likewise,  and  Eosella  1 
found  herself  alone  out  in  an  open  plain,  without  a / 
soul  to  help  her.^  ^ 

^ Crane’s  ‘ Italian  Popular  Tales,’  p.  Iff. 


VOL.  I. 


0 


210 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


A variant  of  this  Sicilian  form  of  the  legend,  current 
in  Chili — brought  thither,  in  all  likelihood,  from  Spain 
— is  to  the  following  effect : One  day  an  old  man  went 
to  a forest  to  cut  firewood  to  sell  in  the  city.  Chop- 
ping a very  thick  tree,  he  heard  groaning  inside ; and 
suddenly  a hideous  black  man  appeared  and  threatened 
him  with  death.  The  poor  old  man  humbly  asked 
pardon,  having  offended  unwittingly.  Well,  the  black 
man  will  spare  his  life,  on  condition  that  he  give  him 
his  beautiful  daughter  in  marriage ; and  in  the  mean- 
time he  may  split  open  the  tree,  and  take  out  of  it  as 
much  gold  as  he  wished  for  the  use  of  his  wife  and 
family.  The  old  man  loads  his  donkey  with  gold; 
and  as  he  is  about  to  return  home,  the  black  man 
tells  him  that  eight  days  hence  he  will  come  to  his 
house  at  night,  and  be  married  to  his  daughter  in  the 
dark.  This  takes  place  at  the  time  appointed,  and 
the  damsel  lived  very  happily,  though  her  husband 
left  her  all  alone  every  morning.  He  came  each 
night,  she  met  him  in  the  dark,  and  just  before  day- 
break he  was  off  again.  An  old  woman,  a neighbour, 
asked  her  one  day  what  sort  of  a man  her  husband 
was.  She  said  she  did  not  know,  for  she  had  never 
seen  him.  Child/’  quoth  the  crone,  “ how  knowest 
thou  but  thy  husband  may  be  a dog,  or  even  Satan  ? 
It  is  needful  thou  shouldst  see  him.  Take  this  match, 
and  fear  nothing.  When  thy  husband  is  asleep,  rub 
the  match  against  the  wall,  and  thou  wilt  see  who  he 
is.”  The  damsel,  when  midnight  came,  struck  the 
match,  and  looking  at  her  husband,  saw  that  he  was 


CUPID  AND  PSYCHE  LEGENDS. 


211 


SO  handsome  that  she  became  wonderstruck.  She 
forgot  all  about  the  match,  and  a spark  fell  upon 
his  face.  So  he  woke  up,  and  blowing  out  the  match, 
“Ungrateful  wretch,”  said  he,  “thou  hast  broken  thy 
word.  Thou  must  know  that  I am  a prince  under  a 
spell,  and  little  was  lacking  for  me  to  be  freed  from 
my  enchantment ; but  now  thou  must  wear  out  shoes 
of  iron  before  thou  shalt  see  Prince  Jalma,  thy  husband, 
again;  and, my  own  pains  will  be  still  greater  than 
thine.”  The  damsel  gets  iron  shoes  made,  and  after 
long  and  weary  travel  discovers  her  husband,  when 
the  spell  is  broken,  as  in  other  versions.^ 


We  find  another  parallel  to  the  story  of  Cupid  and 
Psyche  in  the  old  French  romance  of  ' Partenopex  de  7C 
Blois  ’ : The  fairy  Meliora  grants  the  hero  her  love  on 
the  condition  that  he  does  not  attempt  to  discover  her 
person  until  two  years  are  expired,  when  they  should 
be  married.  The  mother  of  Partenopex,  suspecting 
that  he  is  under  the  spell  of  a wicked  enchantress, 

^ Chilian  Popular  Tales,”  by  Thomas  H.  Moore,  in  ‘ Folk-Lore 
Journal,’  vol.  hi.  pp.  293-299. — The  second  part  of  the  Danish  story 
of  “Prince  Wolf”  is  to  the  same  purpose:  After  the  heroine  has 
been  married  for  some  time  to  her  mysterious  husband,  she  visits 
her  parents,  and  her  mother  persuades  her  to  take  a little  knife  and 
stick  it  into  the  edge  of  the  bedstead : when  he  gets  in,  he  will  give 
himself  a slight  scratch  with  the  knife,  and  if  he  scream,  he  must  be 
a troll,  but  if  he  only  moans,  he  is  a real  man.  The  girl  does  this, 
and  her  husband  moans,  at  which  she  is  pleased ; but  next  day  the 
Wolf  is  lame  in  his  right  hind -leg.  On  her  second  visit  home,  her 
mother  gives  her  a tinder-box  and  taper.  She  lights  the  taper,  and 
beholding  the  loveliest  prince,  embraces  him,  at  which  he  awakes, 
then  springs  from  the  bed  and  limps  out  into  the  woods. 


212 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


gives  him  a magic  lamp,  by  means  of  which  he  might 
behold  his  mysterious  lady-love.  Eeturning  to  the 
fairy  palace,  he  enters  the  chamber  of  Meliora  with 
the  lamp  in  his  hand,  and  while  he  is  gazing  with 
rapture  on  her  beauteous  form,  she  awakes  and  upbraids 
him  for  his  perfidy,  the  consequence  of  which,  she 
informs  him,  must  be  their  immediate  separation. 
The  hero,  however,  is  ultimately  reunited  to  his  fairy 
bride. 

It  seems  to  have  been  an  article  of  very  general 
belief  (says  Eose)  that  when  a superior  being  received 
a mortal  into  favour,  a test  of  obedience  was  required, 
in  the  resistance  of  some  species  of  temptation ; that 
the  temptation  was  not  usually  resisted,  and  that  the 
penalty  of  such  disobedience  was  temporary,  or,  what 
was  more  rare,  eternal  banishment.  Thus  in  the  old 
French  romance  of  ' Melusine  ’ the  fairy  Pressine  be- 
comes enamoured  of  a king  of  Albany  (probably  Scot- 
land), and  espouses  him,  on  the  condition  of  his  never 
attempting  to  see  her  jpendant  sa  g4sine.  She  bears 
him  three  daughters  at  a birth — the  first  named  Melu- 
sine, the  second  Melior,  and  the  third  Palatine.  The 
king,  forgetful  of  his  compact,  enters  her  apartment 
during  the  period  of  her  accouchement,  and  the  fairy, 
after  reproaching  him  with  his  breach  of  promise,  quits 
him  for  ever,  and  retires  with  her  daughters  into  the 
isle  of  Avalon.i 

In  the  ' Lay  of  Sir  Gruelan,’  the  hero  sees  a beauti- 

^ Notes  to  W.  Stewart  Rose’s  rendering  of  ‘ Partdnopex  de  Blois.’ 


CUPID  AND  PSYCHE  LEGENDS. 


213 


ful  fairy  bathing,  who  declares  her  love  for  him,  and 
after  passing  some  time  in  amatory  converse — 

Lo  ! westward  rolled,  the  sun,  with  slanting  beam. 

Streaked  the  green  mead  and  stained  the  glassy  stream, 

Then  the  fond  fairy  bade  the  knight  depart, 

Nor  fear  lest  absence  change  her  constant  heart ; 

Still  veiled  by  secret  law  from  human  eyes, 

Clear  to  his  sight  alone  her  form  should  rise  ; 

Still  loyal  kind,  while  steadfast  wisdom  held 
His  conscious  lips  inviolably  sealedd 

And  in  the  ' Lay  of  Lanval,’  the  hero  is  thus  addressed  . 
by  his  fairy  bride  : /^\ 

“Whene’er  thou  call,  thy  joyful  eyes  shall  see 
This  form,  invisible  to  all  but  thee. 

One  thing  I warn  thee,  let  the  blessing  rest 
An  unrevealed  treasure  in  thy  breast : 

If  here  thou  fail,  that  hour  my  favours  end, 

Nor  wilt  thou  ever  more  behold  thy  friend.”  ^ 

Asiatic  fiction  furnishes  yet  another  instance  in  the 
Persian  story  of  King  Euzvanshad  and  the  fairy  Prin- 
cess Sheristani.  The  fairy  (or  rather  the  queen  of  the 
Jinn,  or  Genii)  marries  the  hero,  on  the  condition  that 
should  she  do  anything  in  his  presence  that  displeased 
him,  he  is  not  to  blame  or  reproach  her  for  it : if  he 
do  so,  the  consequence  must  be  their  separation.  The 
princess,  in  due  course,  gives  birth  to  a child,  which 
(for  good  and  prudent  reasons,  as  afterwards  appears) 
she  casts  into  the  fire,  in  the  presence  of  her  husband, 

^ Le  Grand’s  ‘Fabliaux,’  ed.  1781,  tome  i.  p.  132;  Way’s  transla- 
tion, ed.  1815,  vol.  ii.  pp.  87,  88. 

2 Le  Grand,  iv.  pp.  95,  96 ; Way,  ii.  p.  57. 


214 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


who  utters  a cry  of  horror,  upon  which  she  vanishes, 
but  finally  returns  and  is  reunited  to  her  husband. 

Bryant,  in  his  learned  ^ Analysis  of  Ancient  Mytho- 
logy,' offers  the  following  interpretation  of  the  esoteric 
signification  of  the  Cupid  and  Psyche  myth:  ''The 
most  pleasing  emblem  among  the  Egyptians  was  ex- 
hibited under  the  character  of  Psyche.  This  was, 
originally,  no  other  than  the  Aurelia,  or  Butterfly ; but 
in  after -years  was  represented  as  a lovely  female 
child,  with  the  beautiful  wings  of  that  insect.  The 
Aurelia,  after  its  first  stage  as  an  eruca,  or  worm,  lies 
for  a season  in  a manner  dead,  and  is  enclosed  in  a 
sort  of  coffin.  In  this  state  of  darkness  it  remains  all 
the  winter ; but  at  the  return  of  spring  it  bursts  its 
bonds,  and  comes  out  with  new  life,  and  in  the  most 
beautiful  attire.  The  Egyptians  thought  this  a very 
proper  picture  of  the  soul  of  man,  and  of  the  immor- 
tality to  which  it  aspired.  But  they  made  it  more 
particularly  an  emblem  of  Osiris,  who,  having  been 
confined  in  an  ark  or  coffin,  and  in  a state  of  death,  at 
last  quitted  his  prison  and  enjoyed  a renewal  of  life. 
This  circumstance  of  the  second  birth  is  continually 
described  under  the  character  of  Psyche ; and  as  the 
whole  was  owing  to  divine  love,  of  which  Eros  was  an 
emblem,  we  find  this  person  often  introduced  as  a 
concomitant  of  Psyche.  They  are  generally  described 
as  accidentally  meeting  and  enjoying  a pleasing  inter- 
course, which  is  attended  with  embraces  and  salutes, 
and  every  mark  of  reconciliation  and  favour." 


215 


FAIRY  HINDS:  MAGIC  BARKS. 

S the  dryads  and  other  mundane  semi-deities  were 


amongst  the  ancients  an  intermediate  race  be- 
tween men  and  gods,  so  the  fays,  or  fairies,  of  Euro- 
pean romance,  and  the  peris  and  yakshas  of  Arabian, 
Persian,  and  Indian  fictions,  were  a kind  of  link  be- 
tween men  and  spirits.  They  were  of  two  classes : 
those  who,  like  the  nym'phm  sorores,  possessed  such 
amiable  qualities  as  beauty  of  person,  sweetness  and 
gentleness  of  disposition,  fondness  for  solitudes  — 
sequestered  spots,  adorned  with  verdure,  and  flowers, 
and  fountains,  glassy  lakes,  or  silent-flowing  streams — 
and  more  especially  for  their  penchant  for  mankind 
and  the  tenderness  of  their  attachments  to  the  sons  of 
men ; of  the  other  class  were  those  who  seduced  and 
held  captive  their  lovers,  such  as  the  fairy  Morgiana, 
and  the  female  ghiils  and  the  rakshasis  of  Asiatic 
romance,  who  assumed  the  forms  of  beautiful  damsels 
to  lure  their  victims  to  destruction. 

A common  device  of  a fairy  enamoured  of  a bold 
and  handsome  knight  was  either  to  transform  herself 


213 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


into  a beautiful  hind,  or  cause  one  to  appear  by  her 
magic  power,  which  he  pursued  eagerly,  until  in  some 
shady  grove  ’’  it  disappeared,  when  she  discovered 
herself  to  the  astonished  chevalier.  Thus,  in  the  ' Lay 
of  Sir  Gruelan,’  the  brave  Breton  knight  is  riding 
along  in  melancholy  mood  one  day, — 

When  lo,  all  unawares,  a spotless  hind, 

More  white  than  snow,  the  comeliest  of  her  kind, 

Sprang  up  beneath  his  feet,  then  fled  before, 

Yet  seemed  to  pace  with  pain  as  wounded  sore. 

Her  timorous  semblance  and  her  limping  flight 
Roused  from  his  mournful  muse  the  errant  knight ; 

Grief  to  a hunter’s  ardour  now  gave  place. 

Fair  was  the  game,  and  easy  seemed  the  chase : 

She  still  with  faltering  steps  appeared  to  toil, 

Just  far  enough  before  to  feed  the  hopes  of  spoil, 

Till  many  a fruitless  turn  and  circuit  past, 

Into  a flowery  mead  they  came  at  last ; 

And  there  she  stopped ; and  there  awhile  she  stood 
By  the  green  margent  of  a crystal  flood. 

Within  that  flood  did  bathe  a dame  so  bright, 

So  prime  in  youth,  of  skin  so  dainty  white. 

That  my  poor  wit,  too  feeble  all,  doth  fail 
With  her  sweet  image  to  adorn  my  tale. 

Rich  was  her  raiment,  all  her  robe  was  gold, 

A neighbouring  tree  the  costly  charge  did  hold ; 

And,  seated  on  the  bank,  two  damsels  sheen. 

The  ready  handmaids  of  her  will,  were  seen.^ 

Here,  surely,  was  a scene  sufficient  to  dispel  Sir 
Gru41an’s  “ mournful  muse  ! In  the  romance  of  ' Par- 
tenopex  de  Blois,’  the  hero  is  led  to  the  palace  of 
the  fairy  Meliora  by  pursuing  a magic  boar  which 

1 Le  Grand’s  ‘Fabliaux,’  ed.  1781,  tome  i.  pp.  130,  131  Way’s 
translation,  ed.  1815,  vol.  ii.  pp.  84-86. 


FAIRY  HINDS. 


217 


'she  had  caused  to  appear  before  him — even  as  Circe 
(in  Ovid)  decoyed  Picus  into  her  power.  In  the 
romance  of  'Claris  and  Laris/  the  two  knights  are 
led  to  the  palace  of  the  fairy  Morgiana  by  two  beauti- 
ful kids  which  skipped  before  them,  seeming  to  invite 
them  to  follow  their  track  through  a luxuriant  grove. 

In  the  Irish  ' Lay  of  the  Chase  ’ (Laoidh  na  Sealga), 
Fingal,  with  two  of  his  dogs,  is  alone  engaged  in  pur- 
suit of  a beautiful  doe,  which  leads  him  from  Alm- 
haim,  in  the  province  of  Leinster,  to  Slieve  Guillin, 
or  the  mountain  of  Guillin,  part  of  which  is  in  Ulster 
and  part  in  Armagh.  Here  he  loses  sight  of  the 
quarry,  but  in  its  lieu  discovers  a beautiful  damsel, 
weeping,  by  the  side  of  the  lake,  who  proves  to  be 
an  enchantress.^ 

We  have  in  this  last  an  exact  parallel  to  a story 
in  the  Persian  romance  'Sindibad  Hama,’  in  which 
a young  prince  pursues  a wild  ass,  leaving  his  attend- 
ants far  behind,  until  it  disappears  as  if  the  earth  had 
swallowed  it  up,  when  he  beheld  near  him  " a charm- 
ing lady,  beautiful  as  a peri,  her  stature  straight  as  a 
box-tree,”  and  so  forth — but  she  proves  to  be  a female 
ghiil,  who  sought  thus  to  get  him  into  her  power. 
And  in  the  Persian  Tales  of  the  Dervish  Mukhlis, 
the  daughter  of  the  king  of  the  genii,  Sheristani,  de- 
coys the  hero  in  the  shape  of  a hind, — and  they  are 
married.  (See  ante,  p.  213.) 

According  to  Jewish  legends,  the  arch-fiend  some- 

^ See  the  original  and  a poetical  English  translation  in  Miss  Brooke’s 
‘ Reliques  of  Irish  Poetry.’ 


218 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


times  adopts  the  same  stratagem.  The  talmudists 
gravely  relate  that  King  David  went  out  one  morning 
to  hunt,  when  Satan  appeared  before  him  in  the  form 
of  a deer.  David  drew  his  bow,  but  missed  him,  and 
the  deer  ran  off  at  the  top  of  his  speed.  The  king, 
with  true  sportsman's  instinct,  pursued  the  deer  un- 
wittingly into  the  land  of  the  Philistines — whither  it 
was  Satan's  design  to  lead  him,  in  order  that  he  should 
fall  into  the  hands  of  Ishbi,  the  brother  of  Goliath, 
whose  ignonjinious  death  Ishbi  eagerly  desired  to 
avenge.  But  David  is  rescued  by  Abishai,  one  of  his 
counsellors,  who  had  learned  of  his  mishap  from  a 
dove,  and  mounting  upon  the  king's  own  horse  (which 
he  should  not  have  ventured  to  do  in  any  other  cir- 
cumstances), he  was  in  a few  minutes  beside  him,  and 
the  furious  Philistine  was  baulked  of  his  revenge. 

But  why  multiply  instances  ? The  notion  seems  to 
be  as  universal  as  it  is  certainly  very  ancient. 

Not  least  among  the  wonders  in  the  land  of  faery — 
where  all  is  wonderful — are  the  gorgeously  decked 
barks  employed  to  convey  the  beloved  knight  to  the 
palace  of  enchantments  : to  the  bowers  of  exquisite 
bliss,  where 

The  swift- winged  hours  unnoticed  fly; 
golden  galleys  which  have  need  of  no  “ hands " to 
trim  the  sails  and  steer,  for  they  are  moved  by  magic 
power.  It  was  one  of  these  craft " that  the  brave  Sir 
Gugemer  discovered,  according  to  the  Lai  of  Marie  de 
France : 


MAGIC  BARKS. 


219 


A gallant  bark,  that  with  its  silken  sails, 

Just  bellying,  caught  the  gently  rising  gales. 

And  from  its  ebon  sides  shot  dazzling  sheen 
Of  silvery  rays,  with  mingled  gold  between. 

Now,  by  a strange  resistless  impulse  driven. 

The  knight  assays  the  lot  by  Fortune  given  : 

Lo,  now  he  climbs,  with  fairy  power  to  aid, 

The  bark’s  steep  side,  on  silken  cordage  stayed. 

Gains  the  smooth  deck,  and  wonders  to  behold 
A couch  of  cypress  spread  with  cloth  of  gold; 

While  from  above,  with  many  a taper  bright. 

Two  golden  globes  sent  forth  their  branching  light. 

And  longer  had  he  gazed,  but  sleep  profound. 

Wrought  by  the  friendly  fairy,  wrapt  him  round ; 
Stretched  on  the  couch  the  hunter  lies  supine. 

And  the  swift  bark  shoots  lightly  o’er  the  brine.  ^ 

And  in  ' Partenopex  de  Blois  ’ : 

’Twas  eve  ; when  from  afar  was  heard  the  roar 
Of  hollow  billows  bursting  on  the  shore  ; 

And  from  those  wilds,  forth  issuing  on  the  strand. 

He  viewed  a bark  fast  anchored  by  the  land. 

Gay  was  the  hull,  and  seemly  to  behold; 

The  flag  was  sendal,  purfied  o’er  with  gold. 

Scarce  might  he  climb  the  deck,  with  toil  foredone ; 

But  in  the  shallop  living  wight  was  none. 

While  long  and  sore  he  mused,  a gentle  gale 
Blew,  rustling  from  the  shore,  and  swelled  the  sail. 
Self-steered,  o’er  sparkling  waves  the  vessel  flew. 

The  shore,  receding,  lessened  from  his  view.^ 

The  fiction  of  these  enchanted  vessels  (Eose  remarks, 
in  the  notes  to  his  free  rendering  of  ' Partenopex  ’),  to- 

^ Le  Grand,  tome  iv.  pp.  112,  113  ; Way’s  translation,  vol.  ii.  pp. 
104,  105. 

^ W.  Stewart  Rose’s  translation,  canto  i.  p.  7 : Le  Grand,  tome  v. 
p.  256,  Partenopex,  Comte  de  Blois  : Roman  de  Ferie.” 


220 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


gether  with  many  other  parts  of  romantic  machinery, 
is  to  be  found  both  in  Grecian  and  in  Celtic  fable.  In 
the  8th  book  of  the  Odyssey,  Alcinous  says  to  Ulysses 
(according  to  Pope)  : 

So  shalt  thou  instant  reach  the  realm  assigned 
In  wondrous  ships,  self-moved,  instinct  with  mind  ; 

No  helm  secures  their  course,  no  pilot  guides  ; 

Like  men  intelligent  they  plough  the  tides, 

Conscious  of  every  coast,  and  every  bay. 

That  lies  beneath  the  sun’s  all-seeing  ray. 

Macpherson  has  furnished  an  extract  from  an  old 
Gaelic  tale  having  a similar  foundation;  in  which 
Sgeir,  an  ancient  Druid,  is  wafted  to  a distant  island 
in  a self-moving  boat,  without  any  one  else  on  board. 

One  should  suppose  that  Coleridge  had  forgot  such 
wondrous  vessels,  when  he  compared  his  lost  youth  to 
the  (then)  new-fangled  steamboats : 

Like  those  trim  skiffs,  unknown  of  yore. 

On  winding  lakes  and  rivers  wide. 

That  ask  no  aid  of  sail  or  oar. 

That  fear  no  spite  of  wind  or  tide  ! 

Nought  cared  this  body  for  wind  or  weather. 

When  Youth  and  I lived  in’t  together. 

It  would  appear  that  no  expense  was  spared  in  de- 
corating royal  galleys  in  mediaeval  times,  if  we  may 
credit  the  following  description  of  that  which  the 
messengers  of  Henry  II.  meet  at  sea,  in  the  romance 
of  ‘ Eichard  Coeur  de  Lyon  ’ : 

Such  ne  sawe  they  never  none ; 

For  it  was  so  gay  begone. 


MAGIC  BAEKS. 


221 


Every  iiayle  with  gold  y-grave ; 

Of  pure  gold  was  his  sclave ; 

Her  mast  was  of  yvery ; 

Of  samite  her  sayle  wytly ; 

Her  ropes  all  of  whyte  silke, 

As  whyte  as  ever  was  ony  mylke. 

The  noble  shyp  was,  wythout, 

With  clothes  of  gold  spred  about ; 

And  her  loft  and  her  wyndlace 
A1  of  gold  depay nted  was. 

With  this  gaily-decked  galley  we  may,  finally,  com- 
pare the  faery  bark  which  conveyed  the  youth  to  the 
Land  of  Women  (in  the  Arabian  romance  of  the  ' Seven 
Vazirs,’  to  which  reference  is  made  in  the  preceding 
paper) : the  youth  having  been  carried  through  the  air 
by  a monstrous  eagle  and  left  on  a small  island,  he 
remained  a while  motionless  with  terror ; but  recover- 
ing, began  to  wander  about  the  island.  ''  Suddenly  a 
sail  arose  to  his  view  on  the  waters,  resembling  a 
fieeting  cloud  in  the  heavens.  He  gazed,  and  the  sail 
approached,  till  it  reached  the  beach  of  the  island, 
when  he  beheld  a boat  formed  of  ivory,  ebony,  and 
sandal-wood,  the  oars  of  which  were  made  of  aloes- 
wood  of  Comorin,  the  sails  were  of  white  silk,  and 
it  was  navigated  by  beautiful  maidens,  shining  like 
moons.  One  of  the  ladies  approached  him  with  a 
parcel  wrapped  in  rich  damask,  in  which  was  a royal 
dress  most  superbly  embroidered,  and  a crown  of  gold 
set  with  diamonds  and  pearls ; and  she  assisted  him  to 
dress.  The  ladies  then  conducted  him  to  the  boat, 
which  he  found  spread  with  elegant  carpets  and 


222 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


cushions  of  brocade.  They  hoisted  the  sails,  and 
rowed  with  their  oars,  till  they  reached  the  land,’’ 
where  he  was  wedded  to  the  Queen  of  the  Land  of 
Women,  and  might  have  been  still  living  happily 
there — who  knows  ? — but  for  his  “ fatal  curiosity.” 


223 


THE  THANKFUL  BEASTS:  SECRETS  LEARNED 
FROM  BIRDS. 

TT  is  remarked  by  Lord  Bacon,  that  as  the  active 
^ world  is  inferior  to  the  rational  soul,  so  fiction 
gives  to  mankind  what  history  denies,  and  in  some 
measure  satisfies  the  mind  with  shadows  when  it  can- 
not enjoy  the  substance.  And  as  real  history  gives  us 
not  the  success  of  things  according  to  the  deserts  of 
vice  and  virtue,  fiction  corrects  it,  and  presents  us  with 
the  fates  and  fortunes  of  persons  rewarded  and  pun- 
ished according  to  merit.”  In  this,  indeed,  consists 
the  chief  charm  of  fiction,  especially  of  those  fairy 
tales  which  are  the  never-failing  delight  of  wondering 
childhood,  and  not  unfrequently  the  recreation  of  the 
sage,  in  which  the  good  are  ultimately  extricated  from 
their  troubles  and  trials,  and  live  happily  ever  after- 
wards.” A prominent  characteristic  of  such  tales  is 
the  befriending  of  animals,  who  subsequently  evince 
their  gratitude  by  rendering  their  benefactor  signal 
services. 

The  story  of  Androcles  and  the  Lion  must  be  fami- 
liar to  every  schoolboy,”  as  well  as  to  every  one  who 


224 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


has  been  a schoolboy.  But  perhaps  the  oldest  and 
most  widespread  of  stories  of  this  kind  is  that  of  the 
traveller  who  rescued  a man  and  several  animals  from 
a pit  into  which  they  had  fallen ; the  man  afterwards 
showing  the  basest  ingratitude  to  his  benefactor,  while 
the  animals  are  the  means  of  his  attaining  wealth  and 
honour.  This  story  occurs  in  the  5th  book  of  Gower’s 
‘ Confessio  Amantis,’  and  the  substance  of  his  version 
is  as  follows : 

Once  on  a time  there  was  a great  lord  of  Eome, 
whose  name  was  Adrian,  and  while  eagerly  engaged 
in  the  chase  he  fell  into  a pit,  where  he  lay  helpless, 
until  near  night,  when  a poor  faggot  - maker,  named 
Bardus,  came  past,  leading  his  ass  laden  with  sticks. 
Hearing  a voice  from  the  pit,  Bardus  drew  near,  and 
when  the  lord  Adrian  saw  him,  he  cried,  ''  Help  me,  I 
am  the  lord  Adrian ; and  I will  give  thee  the  half  of 
my  wealth,  by  heaven  and  all  the  gods.”  Then  Bar- 
dus untrussed  his  ass,  and  let  down  the  rope  where- 
with his  faggots  were  fastened  together ; but  it  chanced 
that  an  ape  had  also  fallen  into  the  pit,  and  when  the 
end  of  the  cord  reached  the  bottom  he  seized  it,  and 
Bardus  drew  him  up  and  he  ran  away.  Seeing  that  it 
was  an  ape  and  not  a man,  he  was  sore  afraid,  for  he 
thought  it  was  witchcraft ; but  when  the  lord  Adrian 
again  cried  for  help,  he  once  more  let  down  the  cord, 
and  when  he  drew  it  up,  a great  serpent  unwound 
itself  and  glided  off.  So  Bardus,  believing  the  voice 
''  all  phantom,”  called  out,  ''  What  wight  art  thou,  in 
God’s  name  ? ” Quoth  Adrian,  “ I am  the  same  of 


THE  THANKFUL  BEASTS. 


225 


whose  goods  thou  shalt  have  half/’  Bardus  now  tried 
a third  time,  and  pulled  up  Adrian,  who  did  not  even 
thank  him,  and  was  turning  toward  the  city,  when  the 
simple  faggot-maker  asked  his  covenant  ” ; to  which 
Adrian  replied,  that  if  he  upbraided  him  of  aught,  he 
should  be  so  revenged  that  it  were  better  he  was  dead. 
So  Bardus  went  home  with  his  ass,  and  told  his  wife 
of  this  strange  adventure,  but  he  durst  not  say  a 
word  to  lord  Adrian.  Next  day  he  went  with  his  ass 
to  gather  sticks,  and  coming  near  the  pit  he  saw  the 
ape,  who  had  gathered  faggots  for  him  all  ready  to 
his  hand ; and  this  went  on  from  day  to  day,  until, 
''  upon  a time,”  he  saw  the  serpent,  who  greeted  him 
with  reverence,  and  gave  him  ''a  stone  more  bright 
than  cristall  out  of  his  mouth.”  Bardus  took  it  up, 
astonished  “ that  a beast  should  be  so  grateful,  but  a 
man’s  son  not.”  Having  shown  the  stone  to  his  wife, 
they  agree  to  sell  it.  The  jeweller  to  whom  he  offered 
it  gave  him  gold  in  payment,  and  home  he  went  with 
joy.  To  his  surprise,  he  finds  the  stone  as  well  as  the 
gold  in  his  purse ; shows  them  to  his  wife,  saying  he  is 
sure  that  the  jeweller  had  the  stone  ; but  he  will  go  on 
the  morrow  to  another  place  and  sell  it,  and  if  it  won’t 
dwell  with  any  buyer,  but  creep  into  his  purse,  he 
dare  safely  swear  there  is  virtue  in  the  stone.  So  he 
goes  to  another  place  and  sells  it  for  more  gold ; but 
when  he  gets  home  there  is  the  stone,  along  with  the 
gold,  again  in  his  purse,  and  this  happened  wherever 
he  went  to  sell  it ; and  the  matter  getting  bruited  in 
Borne,  the  emperor  Justinian  sends  for  him.  Bardus 
VOL.  I. 


p 


226 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


tells  his  story,  and  of  Adrian’s  false  promise.  The 
emperor  will  redress  this  matter ; he  sends  for  Adrian, 
who  is  compelled  to  give  Bardus  half  of  his  goods : 

And  thus  of  thilke  uiikinde  blood 
Stant  the  menioire  unto  this  day, 

Where  that  every  wise  man  may 
Ensamplar  him  and  take  in  minde, 

What  shame  it  is  to  ben  unkinde, 

Ayein  against]  the  which  reson  debateth 
And  every  creature  it  hateth. 

Under  the  year  1195,  in  the  Chronicle  of  Matthew 
Paris — a monk  of  the  Abbey  of  St  Albans,  who  died 
in  1259  — the  story  is  related  as  a parable  which 
Eichard  Coeur  de  Lion  was  wont  to  repeat  after  his 
return  from  the  Crusades ; in  this  version  the  animals 
are  a lion  and  a serpent.  In  a later  work,  the  ' Gesta 
Eomanorum,’  we  find  the  same  story — it  is  the  119th 
of  Swan’s  translation — in  which  the  animals  are  a lion, 
a monkey,  and  a serpent,  and  the  man  is  a proud  senes- 
chal, while  the  man  who  rescues  them  is  a faggot- 
maker  named  Guido.  The  story  is  not  so  well  told 
in  this  version,  I think,  as  in  Gower.  The  seneschal 
having  promised  a rich  reward  to  Guido  if  he  drew 
him  out  of  the  pit,  the  wood-cutter  sets  off  to  the  city 
and  gets  a long  cord,  with  which  he  draws  up  success- 
ively the  lion,  the  monkey,  the  serpent,  and  the  senes- 
chal, and — wonderful  to  say,  or  read — also  the  horse 
of  the  seneschal.  Next  day  Guido  goes  to  the  palace 
for  his  promised  reward,  but  receives,  instead  of  money, 
a severe  flogging  for  his  presumption,  which  nearly 


THE  THANKFUL  BEASTS. 


227 


deprives  him  of  life.  After  a long  and  painful  illness, 
he  resumes  his  labours  in  the  forest,  where  he  meets  ten 
asses  laden  with  packs,  and  a lion  driving  them  before 
him — the  same  that  he  had  rescued.  The  lion,  by 
gestures,  signifies  to  Guido  that  they  are  meant  for 
his  acceptance ; but  being  scrupulous  about  the  matter, 
Guido  causes  the  ten  asses  wdth  their  packs  to  be  cried 
in  church,  and  no  one  claiming  them,  he  at  length 
feels  justified  in  appropriating  them  to  his  own  use, 
and  on  opening  the  packs  he  found  them  all  full  of 
money.  One  should  suppose  that  after  this  Guido 
had  no  cause  to  pursue  his  occupation ; but  we  find 
him  in  the  woods  again,  where,  having  forgot  his  axe, 
the  monkey  furnishes  him  with  an  ample  load  of  fag- 
gots, and  the  serpent  gives  him  a stone  of  three  colours.^ 
And  here  again  the  story  becomes  obscure : by  means 
of  this  stone  he  obtains  much  wealth — but  how  so,  we 
may  guess  from  what  follows,  as  well  as  from  Gower’s 
well-told  tale.  The  emperor  hears  of  this  wonderful 
stone,  and,  wishing  to  see  it,  sends  for  Guido.  When 
the  emperor  has  inspected  the  jewel,  he  insists  upon 
buying  it,  and  Guido  informs  him  that  if  the  price  is 
not  paid,  the  stone  will  come  back  to  him.  So  the 
emperor  gives  him  300  florins  for  it.  Guido  then  tells 
the  whole  story,  the  seneschal  is  straightway  crucified, 
and  Guido  installed  in  his  place. 

^ In  one  of  the  two  texts  of  the  ‘ Gesta  ’ edited  by  Herrtage,  for 
the  Early  English  Text  Society,  Guido  learns  from  a “ stoner  ” (jew- 
eller) that  it  possesses  three  virtues ; bestowing  evermore  joy  with- 
out heaviness  ; abundance  without  fail ; and  light  without  darkness. 


228 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


If  King  Eichard  of  the  Lion’s  Heart  was  wont  to 
relate  this  parable,”  he  probably  learned  it  in  the  East, 
where  it  had  been  current  some  four  centuries  or  more 
before  his  time.  It  is  found  in  the  ' Panchatantra,’ 
' Kalila  wa  Dimna,’  ^ and  other  texts  of  the  celebrated 
collection  of  apologues  and  tales  known  generally 
throughout  Europe  as  the  Fables  of  Bidpai,  or  Pilpay. 
In  the  later  Syriac  text  (tenth  or  eleventh  century) 
of  ‘ Kalila  wa  Dimna  ’ — of  which  a translation,  with 
a most  valuable  introductory  account  of  the  several 
versions  of  this  wonderful  work,  by  the  Hon.  Keith 
Falconer,  has  been  recently  published  by  the  Cam- 
bridge University  Press — it  runs  somewhat  thus  : 

A pit  having  been  dug  in  which  to  catch  wild 
animals,  it  so  chanced  that  a goldsmith  fell  into  it, 
and  afterwards  a tiger,  an  ape,  and  a snake  in  like 
manner  fell  in.  A traveller  passing  by  saw  them, 
and  saying  to  himself  that  it  would  be  a meritorious 
action  to  save  these  unfortunates,  especially  the  man, 
he  threw  down  a rope,  which  the  ape  at  once  laid  hold 
of  and  was  drawn  up.  Twice  again  did  he  let  down 
the  rope  and  rescued  the  tiger  and  the  snake.  The 
animals  began  to  thank  the  traveller,  and  said  to  him, 
''  Do  not  draw  up  the  man  out  of  this  pit,  for  no- 
thing in  the  world  is  worse  than  he.”  But  he  drew 
up  the  man  also.  Then  the  animals,  having  again 
expressed  their  gratitude,  went  away,  and  the  gold- 

^ A Greek  translation  of  the  Arabic  ‘ Kalila  wa  Dimna  ’ was  made 
by  a Jew  named  Symeon  the  son  of  Seth,  in  a.d.  1080,  through  which 
the  story,  perhaps,  first  became  known  in  Europe. 


THE  THANKFUL  BEASTS. 


229 


smith,  after  informing  the  traveller  where  he  lived, 
and  promising  to  requite  his  kindness,  also  departed. 
After  some  time  it  happened  that  the  traveller  was  again 
passing  the  same  place,  when  the  ape  met  him,  and 
presented  him  with  choice  fruits.  He  next  met  the 
tiger,  who  saluted  him,  saying,  '‘Wait  a little  while, 
and  I will  contrive  to  repay  what  I owe  you.”  So  he 
went  to  the  king’s  daughter,  and  killed  her,  and 
taking  her  trinkets  brought  them  to  the  traveller,  and 
said  to  him,  " Take  these  trinkets,  wherewith  to  supply 
your  needs.”  But  the  traveller  knew  not  whence  he 
had  brought  them ; so  he  proceeded  to  the  goldsmith’s 
house,  and  showing  him  the  jewels,  desired  him  to  sell 
them,  saying  he  should  have  part  of  the  money  for 
his  trouble.  But  the  ungrateful  goldsmith,  who  at 
once  recognised  the  trinkets  as  belonging  to  the  king’s 
daughter,  took  them  to  the  palace,  and  being  admitted 
to  the  king’s  presence,  he  said  to  him,  "The  man 
who  killed  your  daughter  and  took  these  trinkets  from 
her  is  staying  at  my  house.”  The  king  commanded 
the  traveller  to  be  seized,  scourged  through  the  city, 
and  afterwards  crucified ; and  the  snake  he  had  rescued 
from  the  pit,  seeing  him  hanging  upon  a cross,  had 
pity  on  him,  and,  in  order  to  efiect  his  deliverance, 
stung  the  king’s  son.  Then  the  king  assembled  all 
his  magicians  and  enchanters,  but  they  could  not  cure 
the  prince.  But  it  was  revealed  to  the  prince  in  a 
dream  that  if  the  traveller  who  was  crucified  did  not 
come  and  put  his  hand  on  his  wound  he  would  not 
recover,  for  the  man  had  been  unjustly  condemned. 


230 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


So  the  king,  on  hearing  this,  ordered  the  traveller  to 
be  taken  from  the  cross  and  brought  before  him,  when 
he  asked  him  to  give  an  account  of  his  circumstances, 
and  relate  what  had  brought  him  to  that  city.  The 
traveller  told  his  story  from  beginning  to  end,  upon 
which  the  king  said  to  him,  “Grant  recovery  to  my 
son  from  the  bite  of  a snake,  that  the  truth  of  all 
that  you  have  told  me  may  be  confirmed.”  So  the 
traveller,  inwardly  prayed  to  Heaven,  and  immediately 
the  prince  was  cured.  Then  the  king  honoured  the 
traveller,  and  gave  him  much  wealth,  but  the  un- 
grateful and  false  goldsmith  he  caused  to  be  put  to 
death. 

Such  is  the  later  Syriac  version,  which  differs  from 
most  of  the  other  Eastern  texts,  in  which  the  traveller 
is  cast  into  a deep  dungeon,  where  he  is  visited  by  the 
snake,  who  intimates  to  him  that  he  intends  to  bite 
the  king’s  son  (or  daughter),  and  then  bring  him  a 
talisman  (or  herb)  which  would  cure  the  wound,  in 
order  that  when  the  king  offers  a great  reward  for  his 
son’s  cure,  the  traveller  should  undertake  and  effect 
it,  and  thus  obtain  his  liberty  and  many  rich  presents.^ 

A Pali  variant,  translated  from  the  ‘ Easavahini 
Jambudipa’  story,  in  'The  Orientalist’  for  November 
1884,  may  be  cited,  for  purposes  of  comparison,  in 
the  following  abridged  form: 

^ This  is  the  form  of  the  Siamese  version  given  in  Adolf  Bastian’s 
collection,  and  of  a Tamil  version,  entitled  The  Soothsayer’s  Son,” 
in  ‘ Folk-Lore  of  Southern  India,’  by  Pandit  Nat^sa  Sdstri,  now  in 
course  of  publication  at  Bombay. 


THE  THANKFUL  BEASTS. 


231 


During  a period  of  great  drought  a parrot  descends 
into  a pit  in  a forest,  and,  becoming  heavy  by  drink- 
ing much  water,  is  unable  to  rise.  A snake  and  a 
man  successively  fall  also  into  the  pit.  A man  from 
Benares  draws  all  three  out  with  a long  creeper  resem- 
bling a rope.  The  parrot  informs  his  rescuer  that  he 
lives  in  the  banyan -tree  at  the  southern  gate  of 
Benares,  and  should  he  at  any  time  be  in  distress,  to 
call  Parrot ! ” The  snake  tells  the  traveller  that  he 
lives  in  the  ant-hill  near  the  same  banyan-tree.  The 
man  who  had  been  rescued  says  he  lives  at  such  a 
house  in  Benares,  and  desires  his  rescuer  to  come  to 
him  when  in  any  difficulty.  Some  time  after  this  the 
traveller  is  in  sore  want,  and  goes  to  the  parrot.  The 
king  is  bathing  in  a tank  in  a garden  outside  the  city, 
and  the  parrot  snatches  up  the  jewels  he  had  taken 
off,  and  conveys  them  to  his  benefactor,  who  deposits 
them  with  the  man  whom  he  had  drawn  out  of  the 
pit.  The  king  causes  proclamation  to  be  made  of  the 
lost  jewels.  The  man  reports  to  the  royal  officers 
that  the  stolen  jewels  were  in  his  house,  and  his  un- 
lucky benefactor  is  immediately  seized  and  led  off  to 
be  impaled.  On  the  way  to  the  place  of  execution  he 
calls  the  snake  to  mind,  upon  which  the  snake  changes 
to  human  form,  and  appears  before  the  officers,  saying, 
“ Do  not  kill  this  man  at  present.”  Then  in  snake- 
shape  he  bites  the  queen.  Again  assuming  human 
form,  he  says  to  the  royal  officers,  “The  man  con- 
demned to  die  knows  antidotes  for  poison;”  and  to 
the  man,  “ When  summoned,  free  the  queen  from 


232 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


poison  by  dashing  on  her  a quantity  of  water.’'  The 
queen  is  cured  accordingly,  and  the  man  then  tells  the 
king  the  whole  affair.  He  is  richly  rewarded,  and 
the  king  builds  him  a grand  palace  between  the  ban- 
yan-tree and  the  ant-hill,  and  he  enjoyed  the  friend- 
ship of  the  parrot  and  the  snake  the  rest  of  his  life. 

Benfey  pronounces  the  story  Buddhist  in  origin, 
since  it  is  found  in  the  ' Easavahini,’  as  above,  and  in 
another  Buddhist  work,  " Karmasataka  ’ ; but  it  does 
not  appear  that  he  knew  of  its  form  in  the  ' Katha 
Sarit  Sagara  ’ (Book  x.  ch.  65),  where  a devotee  rescues 
from  a well  a woman,  a lion,  a golden-crested  bird, 
and  a snake.  Some  time  after,  the  devotee,  being 
exhausted  with  hunger,  is  fed  by  the  grateful  lion 
with  deer’s  flesh.  And  being  again  in  sore  want  of 
food,  the  golden-crested  bird  brought  him  a casket  of 
jewels.  The  devotee,  while  wandering  about  to  sell 
the  jewels,  came  to  the  city  where  the  woman  he  had 
rescued  was  living,  and  having  secretly  deposited  the 
jewels  in  the  house  of  an  old  woman,  he  went  to 
market,  and  on  his  way  met  with  the  woman  he  had 
saved  from  the  well,  and  they  fell  into  conversation. 
She  told  him  that  she  was  now  one  of  the  queen’s 
attendants,  and  asked  him  about  his  own  adventures. 
So  the  confiding  man  acquainted  her  of  the  jewels  he 
had  received  from  the  golden-crested  bird,  and,  taking 
her  to  the  house  of  the  old  woman,  showed  her  them. 
How  it  happened  that  the  bird  had  stolen  this  casket 
of  jewels  before  the  queen’s  eyes,  and  the  woman  went 
at  once  to  the  queen  and  told  her  that  they  were  in 


THE  THANKFUL  BEASTS. 


233 


the  possession  of  the  devotee.  Then  the  king,  on 
hearing  this,  caused  the  devotee  to  be  cast  into  prison, 
whither  the  grateful  snake  came  and  said  to  him  that 
he  would  coil  about  the  king’s  neck  and  not  let  him 
go  until  told  to  do  so  by  the  devotee.  The  snake 
having  coiled  round  the  king’s  neck,  and  this  being 
told  to  the  devotee,  he  offered  to  deliver  him  from  the 
snake.  The  devotee  was  then  sent  for,  and  saying  to 
the  snake,  Let  the  king  go  at  once,”  the  snake  let  the 
king  go,  and  the  king  gave  the  devotee  half  his  king- 
dom, and  thus  he  became  prosperous  in  a moment.^ 

The  story,  moreover,  occurs  in  a much  older 
Buddhist  w'ork  than  either  of  those  above  mentioned, 
namely,  the  ‘ Jatakas,’  or  Birth-Stories,  where  it  is 
told  in  this  wise : 

King  Brahmadatta  of  Benares  had  a son,  named 
Prince  Evil,  of  a cruel  and  vindictive  nature.  Bathing 
in  the  Ganges,  he  caused  his  slaves  to  carry  him  into 
the  middle  of  the  stream,  where  they  kept  him  under 
the  water,  intending  to  drown  him,  and  then  went  to 


^ Under  the  title  of  “ Father  Bruin  in  a Corner,”  in  Dasent’s 
‘Tales  from  the  Fjeld,’  we  have  a corrupted  Norse  version  of  this 
widespread  story  : A man  digs  a pit  for  wild  beasts,  and  fastens 
near  it  a live  young  dog  as  a bait ; in  tlie  course  of  the  night  a fox, 
a wolf,  and  a bear  fall  into  the  pit,  and  early  in  the  morning  an  old 
woman  coming  past  looks  down  and  begins  to  jeer  at  the  beasts  thus 
entrapped,  when  she  suddenly  herself  tumbles  into  the  pit ; by-and- 
by  the  man  comes,  and  after  drawing  up  the  old  woman,  kills  the 
three  beasts  from  whose  depredations  he  had  suffered.  It  is  signifi- 
cant that  even  in  this  garbled  version  it  is  a woman  that  falls  into  the 
pit,  as  in  the  ‘ Kath^  Sarit  S^gara.’ 


234 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


the  land.  They  told  the  king  that  they  thought  he 
had  come  to  land  before  them.  The  prince,  carried 
away  by  the  stream,  got  on  the  trunk  of  a tree;  a 
snake  (formerly  a rich  landowner,  who  had  buried  in 
the  shore  of  the  river  forty  hotis  of  money),  a rat  (for- 
merly a person  of  great  wealth,  who  had  buried  thirty 
hotis),  and  a young  parrot,  successively  also  got  on 
the  trunk,  because  of  the  floods.  In  the  middle  of  the 
night,  the  Bodisat^  (reborn  in  the  family  of  an  Udicca 
Brahman),  a recluse,  hears  the  bitter  wailing  of  the 
prince,  and,  diving  into  the  water,  drags  the  log  to 
the  shore.  He  takes  the  prince,  the  snake,  the  rat, 
and  the  parrot  to  his  hermitage,  and  restores  them  to 
strength.  After  some  days  the  river  floods  begin  to 
subside,  and  the  hermit’s  guests  take  their  leave  of 
him.  The  snake  offers  him  the  forty  hotis  which  he 
had  concealed  in  a former  birth ; the  rat  offers  the  thirty 
hotis  he  had  likewise  hidden ; and  the  parrot  offers  to 
furnish  him — assisted  by  his  relatives — with  several 
cartloads  of  red  rice.  The  king’s  son  says  to  him- 
self, ''  When  he  comes  to  see  me.  I’ll  murder  him,”  but 
to  the  Bodisat,  ''  When  I become  king,  you  must  pay 
me  a visit,  and  I will  take  care  of  you.”  Not  long 
after  this  the  prince  became  king,  and  the  Bodisat 
thought  to  himself, ''  111  make  trial  of  these  creatures.” 
So  he  called  out  Snake  ! ” when  the  snake  appeared 
before  him,  and  renewed  his  offer  of  the  forty  hotis  of 
gold;  then  to  the  rat,  who  again  offered  the  thirty 

^ The  potential  Buddha — i.e.,  Gdtama  in  one  of  his  550  births 
before  attaining  Buddhahood. 


THE  THANKFUL  BEASTS. 


235 


kotis ; and  then  to  the  parrot,  who  offered  to  supply 
him  with  any  quantity  of  red  rice.  ''  Be  it  so,”  said 
he,  ''  if  I should  have  need.”  The  Bodisat  next  goes 
to  Benares,  takes  up  his  abode  in  the  royal  gardens, 
and  sees  the  perfidious  prince  go  past  on  a richly 
caparisoned  state  elephant  with  a great  retinue.  The 
king,  recognising  his  benefactor,  at  once  gives  orders 
to  have  him  impaled.  Accordingly  the  Bodisat  is  taken 
outside  the  city,  where,  before  being  impaled,  he  is 
severely  bastinadoed,  and  at  each  blow  he  spoke  this 
gdthd : 

Full  truly  this  the  wise  declare, 

Indeed  they  do  not  err, 

Far  better  is  a floating  log 

Than  a false  ungrateful  man. 

On  being  questioned  by  the  king’s  myrmidons  whether 
he  had  ever  done  a service  to  the  king,  he  tells  them 
the  whole  story.  Then  the  people,  disgusted  with 
the  king’s  cruelty  and  ingratitude,  put  him  to  death, 
and  place  the  Bodisat  on  the  throne.  But  the  Bodi- 
sat did  not  forget  the  three  grateful  animals  whom  he 
had  rescued  from  the  river : the  snake  and  the  rat  give 
him  the  wealth  which  they  had  avariciously  concealed 
in  former  births,  and  he  deposited  it  in  the  royal 
treasury ; the  parrot  again  offered  to  furnish  rice,  and 
the  Bodisat  replied,  “ When  I have  need  of  it,  I will 
accept  of  your  kind  offer.”  Then  he  caused  a golden 
tube  to  be  made  for  the  snake’s  abode,  a crystal  cave 
for  the  rat,  and  a golden  cage  for  the  parrot.  And  so 
these  four  individuals  lived  together  in  peace  and 


236 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


harmony  as  long  as  life  lasted,  and  at  their  death 
passed  away  to  be  rewarded  according  to  their  deeds.^ 


Innumerable  instances  of  the  gratitude  of  befriended 
animals  occur  in  the  folk-tales  of  almost  every  country. 
Thus,  in  Steel  and  Temple’s  'Wide-Awake  Stories,’ 
from  the  Panjab  and  Kashmir,  the  son  of  a soldier, 
in  quest  of  fortune,  takes  a thorn  out  of  a tiger’s  foot, 
and  is  rewarded  with  a box  which  contains  a manikin 
("  Sir  Bumble  ”),  who  procures  for  him  all  he  desires — 
food,  sweetmeats,  and  even  a beauteous  princess  for 
his  bride.  In  the  German  tale  of  " The  Fox’s  Brush,” 
the  hero’s  perilous  adventures  are  brought  to  a suc- 
cessful issue  through  the  aid  of  a fox,  at  which  his 
two  brothers  (who  preceded  him)  had  shot,  but  he  had 
humanely  refrained.^  And  in  the  Norse  story  of  " The 
Giant  who  had  no  Heart  in  his  Body,”  a raven,  a 
salmon,  and  a wolf,  having  been  treated  kindly  by  the 
young  hero,  enable  him  to  encounter  and  slay  the 
giant. 


In  Mr  Mitford’s  ' Tales  of  Old  Japan  ’ little  Peach- 
ling  sets  out  for  the  Ogres’  island,  taking  with  him  for 
his  food  some  millet  dumplings.  On  the  way  he  meets 
first  an  ape,  next  a pheasant,  and  lastly  a dog,  to  each 

^ See  the  “ Saccankira  J^taka,”  No.  73,  translated  by  Rev.  Dr  R. 
Morris,  ‘Folk-Lore  Journal’  (1885),  vol.  hi.  pp.  348-353. 

2 The  Norse  story  of  the  “ Golden  Bird,”  in  Dasent’s  ‘ Tales  from 
the  Fjeld,’  is  almost  identical  with  “ The  Fox’s  Brush  ” in  Grimm’s 
collection  ; and  a Servian  variant  is  found  in  No.  19  of  Leger’s  ‘Contes 
Populaires  Slaves.’ 


THE  THANKFUL  BEASTS. 


237 


of  which,  at  their  request,  he  gives  one  of  his  dump- 
lings, and  they  follow  him  to  Ogres’  island,  where,  by 
their  assistance,  he  enters  the  castle,  puts  the  ogres  to 
flight,  and  obtains  all  their  vast  treasures.  But  the 
hero  of  an  Arabian  tale,  ''The  Prince  of  Sind  and 
Fatima,  daughter  of  Amir  bin  FTaoman,”  received  still 
more  extraordinary  aid  from  the  creatures  he  had  be- 
friended. The  young  prince  enters  a desert,  which  is 
covered  with  an  enormous  flight  of  locusts,  which  had 
fallen  from  want  of  food.  Pitying  their  distress,  he 
orders  meal  to  be  strewed  on  the  ground,  and  when 
the  locusts  had  refreshed  themselves  they  flew  away. 
Some  days  afterwards  he  enters  a thick  forest,  crowded 
with  herds  of  wild  animals  of  every  description ; but 
they  did  not  attempt  to  attack  him,  although  they  were 
in  a starving  condition.  He  ordered  some  of  his  cattle 
to  he  killed  and  distributed  to  them  for  food.  Pre- 
sently he  meets  with  an  old  man,  of  whom  he  inquires 
the  way  to  the  country  of  Amir  bin  Haoman,  and  learns 
that  this  prince  has  resolved  that  no  one  shall  marry 
his  daughter  unless  he  can  perform  three  tasks,  which 
are  so  difficult  as  to  surpass  the  ingenuity  and  power 
of  man.  When  the  prince  demands  the  hand  of  Amir’s 
daughter,  he  is  led  into  a court  where  there  is  an 
immense  vessel  filled  with  three  kinds  of  grain  mixed 
together,  which  he  is  required  to  separate  from  each 
other,  and  put  into  different  heaps  before  sunrise.  This 
task  is  performed  by  the  locusts  which  he  had  fed  in 
the  desert.  His  next  task  is  to  drain  off  before  sun- 
rise a large  reservoir  of  water,  which  is  done  by  the 


238  POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 

wild  beasts  he  had  fed  in  the  forest,  wiio  came  at 
night  and  drank  up  all  the  water.  The  third  task  is 
to  construct,  with  materials  provided  by  the  king,  a 
palace  larger  than  that  which  he  occupies.  This  is 
done  by  his  friends  the  genii  of  the  iron  mountains, 
through  which  the  prince  had  to  pass  on  his  way,  whom 
he  had  sumptuously  entertained ; and  the  princess  is 
accordingly  won. 

These  incidents  are  of  very  frequent  occurrence 
in  the  fairy  tales  of  Europe.  In  the  Danish  story  of 
Svend’s  Exploits,  the  king  will  not  allow  the  hero  to 
marry  his  daughter  until  he  has  separated  seven  barrels 
of  wheat  and  seven  barrels  of  rye  which  are  lying  in 
one  heap,  and  this  task  is  done  for  him  by  the  ants, 
because  he  had  once  fed  them. — In  No.  12  of  Dozon’s 
Albanian  Tales,  the  hero  has  a similar  task  done  for 
him,  also  by  grateful  ants. 

In  No.  25  of  Leger’s  collection  of  Slav  Tales,  the 
younger  of  two  brothers  sets  out  to  seek  his  fortune, 
and  comes  upon  a multitude  of  ants  in  a meadow,  and 
shares  his  bread  with  them ; farther  on  he  sees  a fish 
gasping  on  a river’s  bank,  and  throws  it  back  into  the 
water.  Coming  to  a city,  he  learns  from  an  innkeeper 
that  the  king’s  daughter  is  dangerously  ill,  and  that 
whoever  should  restore  her  to  health  should  marry  her. 
The  hero  cures  her  with  some  wonderful  water  which 
his  father  had  given  him.  But  the  princess  refuses  to 
marry  him  before  he  accomplishes  certain  tasks,  one 
of  which  is  to  separate  two  sacks  of  poppy-seeds  and 


THE  THANKFUL  BEASTS. 


239 


two  sacks  of  ashes  which  were  mixed  together : this  is 
done  by  the  thankful  ants  he  had  fed.  Another  task 
is  to  procure  for  her  the  most  precious  pearl  from 
the  bottom  of  the  sea,  which  is  given  him  by  the  fish 
he  threw  back  into  the  river. 

And  in  the  Sicilian  story  of  the  beautiful  Cardia,  the 
hero  has  three  tasks  to  perform  in  order  to  win  his 
lady-love.  First,  he  has  to  eat  a cellarful  of  beans, 
which  the  ravens  do  for  him ; next,  he  has  to  dispose 
of  a great  number  of  corpses,  which  his  friends  the 
wild  beasts  quickly  accomplish  in  their  own  way; 
lastly,  he  is  enabled  to  stuff  many  mattresses  with 
feathers  by  the  help  of  the  subjects  of  the  king  of  the 
birds. 

In  the  ' Katha  Sarit  Sagara  ’ a rakshasa  first  orders 
the  hero  to  sow  a great  quantity  of  sesame-seed,  which 
the  demon’s  daughter  performs  for  her  lover  by  magic 
power ; and  when  the  demon  finds  it  done,  he  bids  him 
take  up  all  the  seed  again,  as  a further  task  before  he 
will  give  him  his  daughter,  and  she  calls  up  an  in- 
numerable tribe  of  ants  and  makes  them  gather  the 
sesame-seed  together. 

In  the  Tamil  romance  entitled  ' Madana  Kamaraja 
Kadai’  the  hero  of  one  of  the  stories,  called  Jagatala- 
pratapa,  wanders  over  mountains,  and  through  forests 
and  thickets,  in  search  of  his  lost  celestial  wives.  He 
spied  a broad  river  before  him,  in  which  several  ants 
were  struggling  for  their  lives.  The  ant-king  also  was 
among  the  sufferers,  and  he  now  called  out  to  the  hero 
and  said,  Traveller,  whoever  you  may  be,  if  you  re- 


240 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


lieve  me  from  my  danger,  I shall  relieve  you  also 
when  you  are  in  difficulty,  whenever  you  think  of 
me.’*  These  words  excited  the  king’s  pity,  so  he 
entered  the  river  and  extricated  all  the  ants.  Then  the 
ant-king  thanked  him  and  took  his  leave.  Going  a 
little  farther,  he  found  a frog  dying  in  the  midst  of 
burning  sand.  He  was  the  king  of  the  frogs.  And  he 
called  to  the  hero,  begging  him  to  take  him  into  water, 
and  promising  to  help  him  in  return  should  he  ever  be 
in  any  strait.  So  he  took  the  frog-king  up  and  placed 
him  in  the  nearest  pond.  At  length  he  discovers  his 
celestial  wives  bathing  in  a tank,  and  after  he  had 
upbraided  them  for  deserting  him,  they  take  him  up 
into  Indra’s  paradise,  to  plead  his  case  before  the  deity. 
Indra  sets  him  certain  tasks,  which  if  he  execute,  his 
wives  should  be  restored  to  him.  Having  caused  his 
servants  to  reduce  to  the  finest  dust  a tract  of  land,  to 
scatter  in  it  ten  halams  of  sesamum,  and  to  plough  it 
well  a hundred  times,  he  ordered  the  hero  to  heap  up 
these  ten  halams  of  seed  without  omitting  a single 
grain,  if  he  really  deserved  his  daughters.  The  ant- 
king  sets  all  his  subjects  to  this  task,  which  they 
accomplish  perfectly.  Then  Indra  throws  his  ring  into 
a well  inhabited  by  serpents,  and  the  frog-king  recovers 
it  by  compelling  his  subjects  to  jump  into  the  well  and 
become  food  for  the  serpents.  Finally,  the  king  is  re- 
warded with  the  daughters  of  Indra  in  marriage.^ 

1 ‘ The  Dravidian  Nights’  Entertainments  : being  a translation  of 
Madanak4mar4jankadai.’  By  Pandit  S.  M.  Nat^sa  S4stri.  Madras  : 
1886.  Pp.  109,  115-117, 


THE  THANKFUL  BEASTS. 


241 


Sometimes  the  animals  give  the  hero  or  heroine 
assistance  out  of  mere  goodwill,  as  in  the  case  of 
Psyche,  in  the  ' Golden  Ass ' of  Apuleius : Venus  takes 
wheat,  barley,  millet,  poppy,  vetches,  lentils,  and  beans, 
and,  mixing  them  all  together,  says  to  the  unhappy 
bride  of  Cupid,  Separate  this  promiscuous  mass 
of  seeds,  and  having  properly  put  each  grain  in  its 
place,  and  so  sorted  the  whole,  give  me  a proof  of  your 
expedition  by  finishing  the  task  before  evening ; and 
a colony  of  ants,  pitying  her  distress,  speedily  execute 
the  otherwise  impossible  task. 

M.  Dozen,  in  a mythographical  analysis  of  the  story 
of  Psyche,  appended  to  his  collection  of  Albanian  Tales, 
pointing  out  that  such  tasks  are  common  to  both 
Eastern  and  Western  folk-tales,  remarks  that  they 
go  back  to  the  labours  of  Hercules  or  Bellerophon. 

Cutting  off  a piece  of  one's  own  flesh  and  giving  it 
to  an  animal  to  save  the  life  of  its  intended  victim,  is 
always  rewarded  by  the  grateful  creature  thus  rescued, 
and  sometimes  also  by  the  other.  In  one  of  the  Persian 
Tales  of  a Parrot,  a younger  son  of  a king  saves  a frog 
from  a snake,  and  then  gives  the  latter,  in  lieu  of  the 
prey  of  which  he  had  been  deprived,  a piece  of  flesh 
from  his  own  arm.  The  snake  then  assumed  the  form 
of  a man,  as  did  also  the  frog,  and  the  prince  by  their 
help  obtains  a place  of  honour  at  the  court  of  a foreign 
king,  and  marries  his  daughter. — The  incident  of  a man 
supplying  a snake  or  other  animal  with  flesh  from  his 
own  body  is  very  common  in  Indian  fiction,  the  snake, 

VOL.  I.  Q 


242 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


etc.,  being  inferior  deities,  as  in  the  foregoing  story. 
In  the  ' Katha  Sarit  Sagara  ’ we  read  of  a prince,  in 
the  course  of  his  adventures,  meeting  with  a rakshasa, 
and  ‘'not  being  able  to  obtain  other  flesh  to  give 
the  demon  to  eat,  he  cut  off  with  his  sword  some  of 
his  own  flesh,  and  gave  it  to  him.”  For  this  singular 
act  of  generosity  the  demon  renders  the  prince  great 
services.  In  the  Persian  romance  of  ‘ Hatim  Tai,’  the 
magnanimous  hero,  while  journeying  through  a vast 
desert,  discovers  a wolf  in  pursuit  of  a milch-doe : he 
calls  to  the  wolf  to  desist,  and  the  wolf  at  once  stood 
still — knowing  that  he  who  called  was  Hatim,  since  no 
one  else  could  be  so  compassionate  to  rational  and 
irrational  creatures.  The  wolf,  having  thus  allowed 
the  doe  to  escape,  then  demands  of  Hatim  something 
to  eat.  Hatim  cuts  a slice  of  flesh  from  his  own  thigh, 
and  gives  it  to  the  wolf,  who,  in  reward  of  his  kindness, 
furnishes  him  with  the  information  he  requires  to 
successfully  accomplish  the  object  of  his  journey. 

Beasts  and  birds  are  often  thus  communicative, 
and  occasionally  their  “secrets,”  which  are  of  very 
great  value,  are  overheard.  Thus  in  the  story  of  Vik- 
ram  Maharaja  (Miss  Frere’s  ‘Old  Deccan  Days;  or, 
Indian  Fairy  Legends,’  a delightful  little  work),  a 
cobra  had  crept  into  the  throat  of  the  raja,  and  could 
not  be  dislodged.  His  bride  overhears  the  cobras 
talking,  one  of  which  tells  the  others  that  if  certain 
nuts  are  pounded  and  mixed  with  cocoa-nut  oil,  set  on 
Are,  and  burned  beneath  the  raja,  the  cobra  would  be 


SECRETS  LEARNED  FROM  BIRDS. 


243 


instantly  killed  and  drop  to  the  ground.  Moreover,  if 
the  same  were  done  at  the  mouth  of  his  hole,  he,  too, 
would  be  killed,  and  then  they  might  find  the  treasure 
he  guards.  Needless  to  add  that  the  raja  is  cured  and 
the  treasure  found.  In  like  manner,  Panch-Phul  Eani 
(in  the  same  work)  learns  from  the  conversation  of 
two  jackals  the  means  to  adopt  for  resuscitating  her 
husband.  And  in  the  Danish  tale  of  Svend’s  Exploits 
we  read : “ Just  as  he  was  going  to  sleep,  twelve 
crows  came  flying  and  perched  on  the  elder-trees  over 
Svend’s  head.  They  began  to  converse  together,  and 
one  told  another  what  had  happened  to  him  that  day. 
When  they  were  about  to  fly  away,  one  crow  said,  ^ I 
am  so  hungry,  where  shall  I get  something  to  eat  ? ’ 
'We  shall  have  food  enough  to-morrow,  when  father 
has  killed  Svend,’  answered  the  crow’s  brother.  ' Dost 
thou  think  that  such  a miserable  fellow  dares  fight  with 
our  father  ? ’ said  another.  ‘ Yes,  it  is  probable  enough 
that  he  will,  but  it  will  not  profit  him  much,  as  our 
father  cannot  be  overcome  but  with  the  Man  of  the 
Mount’s  sword,  and  that  hangs  in  the  mound,  within 
seven  locked  doors,  before  each  of  which  are  two  fierce 
dogs  that  never  sleep.’  Svend  thus  learned  that  he 
should  only  be  sacrificing  his  strength  and  life  in 
attempting  a contest  with  the  dragon,  before  he  had 
become  master  of  the  Man  of  the  Mount’s  sword;” 
which  he  obtained  by  means  of  a finger-stall  that 
rendered  him  invisible,  and  with  that  resistless  blade 
slew  the  monstrous  dragon. — In  a modern  Greek  ver- 
sion of  the  Cupid  and  Psyche  legend,  the  King  of 


244 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


the  Birds  (an  enchanted  prince)  is  cut  in  the  feet  with 
broken  glass,  by  a device  of  the  heroine’s  sisters,  when 
he  immediately  disappears.  The  heroine  sets  off  in 
quest  of  him.  In  the  course  of  her  wanderings  she 
hears  some  snakes  talking  together  about  what  had 
befallen  their  king.  They  say  that  the  remedy  for  his 
hurts  would  be  obtained  by  killing  one  of  them  and 
taking  out  his  fat;  and  some  birds  say  the  same  of 
themselves.  She  kills  one  of  the  snakes  and  one  of 
the  birds,  takes  the  fat  out  of  them,  and  applying  it 
to  the  prince’s  feet,  he  is  cured. 

In  the  conclusion  of  Pandit  Natesa  Sastrf’s  ‘ Dravi- 
dian  Nights,’^  the  prince  and  his  clever  companion, 
the  son  of  the  king’s  prime  minister  (who  is  the  hero 
of  this  entertaining  Tamil  romance),  are  returning  to 
their  own  country  with  their  newly  - acquired  wives. 
They  encamp  for  the  night  under  a banyan-tree,  and 
all  are  asleep  excepting  the  ever-watchful  minister’s 
son,  who  hears  a pair  of  owls  conversing,  and  listens 
attentively  to  what  they  are  saying  one  to  the  other — 
for  he  was  well  acquainted  with  the  language  of  birds. 
Said  the  male  bird,  ''  My  dear,  the  prince  who  is  en- 
camped under  our  tree  is  to  die  shortly  by  the  falling 
on  him  of  a big  branch  which  is  about  to  break.”  '‘And 
if  he  should  escape  this  calamity  ? ” quoth  the  female. 

“ He  will  die  to-morrow,  then,”  replied  the  other,  “ in 
a river,  in  the  bed  of  which  he  is  to  pitch  his  tent : the 
river  will  be  dry  at  the  time,  but  when  midnight  comes 
1 See  note,  p.  240. 


SECRETS  LEARNED  FROM  BIRDS. 


245 


a heavy  flood  will  rush  down  and  carry  him  away.’’ 
“ And  should  he  escape  this  second  calamity  also  ? ” 
said  the  female.  Then,”  answered  her  mate,  “ he  will 
surely  die  by  the  hands  of  his  wife  when  he  reaches 
his  own  city.”  ‘'And  should  he  escape  this  third 
calamity  also  ? ” “ My  dear  love,”  said  the  male  bird, 

“ he  cannot  escape  it.  But  if  he  does,  he  will  reign  as 
a king  of  kings  for  hundreds  of  years ; ” adding,  that 
any  one  who  happened  to  know  this  secret  and  revealed 
it,  his  head  should  burst  instantly  into  a thousand 
pieces.  The  three  calamities  and  the  curse  on  the 
person  who  should  reveal  them  struck  the  minister’s 
son  with  dismay.  But  he  had  no  time  to  lose.  So  he 
rose  up,  and,  going  into  the  prince’s  tent,  removed  him, 
still  sleeping,  with  his  couch  to  a spot  far  from  the 
tree.  No  sooner  had  this  been  done  than  the  branch 
of  the  tree  broke  with  a crash  that  aroused  all  the 
army  as  well  as  the  prince,  who  exclaimed,  “ Surely  I 
was  sleeping  in  the  very  tent  which  that  branch  has 
crushed  ! How  was  I removed  hither  ? ” The  mini- 
ster’s son  simply  said  in  reply,  “ I heard  the  noise  of 
the  breaking  branch,  and  removed  you  out  of  danger.” 

At  daybreak  they  resumed  their  journey,  and  near 
nightfall  they  reached  the  bank  of  a river-bed.  All 
preferred  to  encamp  on  the  embankment,  excepting 
the  prince,  who  insisted  on  having  his  tent  pitched 
in  the  dry  bed  of  the  river.  It  was  a flne  moonlight 
night,  and  when  all  but  the  minister’s  son  were  fast 
asleep  in  their  tents  on  the  river’s  bank,  he  heard  the 
roaring  of  waters  in  the  distance,  so  he  at  once  re- 


246 


POPULAK  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


moved  the  prince  with  his  couch  to  a place  of  safety. 
Down  came  the  rushing  flood  with  irresistible  force. 
The  noise  awoke  the  prince,  who,  again  wondering  at 
his  escape,  thus  addressed  his  friend,  “ Surely  I was 
sleeping  in  the  river-bed  which  is  now  deeply  sunk  in 
water  ! How  is  it  that  I am  now  here  without  injury?’' 
The  minister’s  son  merely  said  that  he  had  been  wake- 
ful, and  hearing  the  sound  of  the  coming  flood,  had 
removed  him  to  the  bank.  The  prince  warmly  ex- 
pressed his  gratitude  to  him  for  having  repeatedly 
saved  his  life  and  watched  over  his  safety. 

When  they  reached  their  own  city,  the  minister’s 
son  obtained  a lodging  for  the  prince  and  himself, 
with  their  wives,  until  other  arrangements  could  be 
made.  The  minister’s  son,  suspecting  that  the  prince’s 
wife  did  not  love  her  husband,  and  purposed  doing 
away  with  him,  concealed  himself  at  nights  under  the 
prince’s  bed.  How  this  lady  had  for  her  paramour 
a cripple  fellow,  who  lived  at  some  distance  from  her 
lodging,  which  was  connected  with  his  place  of  abode 
by  an  underground  passage,  by  which  she  visited  the 
cripple.  Eeturning  to  her  lodging  one  night,  she 
went  direct  to  the  prince’s  chamber  and  cut  her 
sleeping  husband’s  throat.  The  minister’s  son,  spring- 
ing from  his  hiding-place -—too  late,  however,  to  save 
his  master — laid  hands  on  the  murderess,  who,  with 
wonderful  presence  of  mind,  at  once  called  out  that 
he  had  killed  her  lord.  But  when  the  king  came,  and 
the  minister’s  son  asked  him  whether,  if  he  had 
wished  to  kill  his  friend,  he  did  not  have  oppor- 


SECRETS  LEARNED  FROM  BIRDS. 


247 


tunities  enough  while  they  travelled  together,  the 
king  was  convinced  of  his  innocence.  The  prince’s 
body  was  laid  on  the  funeral  pyre,  but  the  minister  s 
son  secretly  removed  it,  and  put  in  its  place  a quan- 
tity of  bones,  and  taking  the  body  home,  deposited 
it  in  a large  box.  Meanwhile  his  own  wife,  who  was 
as  virtuous  as  the  wife  of  the  prince  was  vicious, 
went  to  the  temple  of  Kali  to  accomplish  a vow  she 
had  made  of  sacrificing  her  right  hand  to  the  goddess, 
should  her  husband  be  acquitted  of  the  charge  of 
murdering  the  prince,  and  the  minister’s  son,  suspect- 
ing her  movements,  had  followed  her  into  the  temple 
unseen.  She  was  about  to  sever  her  right  hand  when 
the  goddess  stopped  her,  and  said  she  was  pleased 
with  her  devotion  to  her  husband ; and  instead  of 
requiring  the  sacrifice  of  her  hand,  she  would  confer 
on  her  right  arm  the  power  of  raising  the  dead  to 
life.^  When  the  lady  had  regained  her  lodging,  she 
found  her  husband  (who  had  got  home  before  her) 
apparently  asleep,  and  shaking  him,  asked  what 
presents  he  had  brought  her.  He  gave  her  his  keys, 
bidding  her  open  the  large  box  and  take  out  what 
she  found  there.  The  lady,  having  opened  the  box, 
thrust  her  right  hand  inside,  upon  which,  to  her 

^ The  power  of  resuscitating  any  dead  creature  is  often  ascribed  to 
heroes  of  Hindd  and  Persian  fictions — sometimes,  as  in  the  present 
case,  conferred  by  a deity,  but  more  frequently,  perhaps,  it  is  ac- 
quired by  magical  skill.  This  notion,  as  well  as  that  of  the  power  of 
making  old  persons  young  again,  is  one  that  seems  to  have  captivated 
untutored  minds  in  all  ages,  and  examples  of  its  prevalence  in  both 
European  and  Asiatic  legends  will  be  found  in  subsequent  papers  and 
notes. 


248 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


amazement,  the  prince  rose  up,  alive  and  well,  but 
marvelling  how  he  got  into  such  a place.  The 
prince's  wife  is  put  to  death,  before  which,  however, 
the  minister's  son  was  induced  by  the  king  and  his 
courtiers  to  relate  all  the  circumstances,  which  he 
had  no  sooner  done  than  his  head  burst  into  a thou- 
sand pieces.  All  present  exclaimed,  ''  The  great  man 
of  the  world  is  gone  for  ever ! We  were  fools  in 
forcing  him  to  relate  the  story ! " But  the  wife  of 
the  minister's  son  joined  the  pieces  together,  and 
laying  her  right  hand  on  his  head,  behold ! like  one 
awaking  from  sleep,  he  rose  up  to  life. 


249 


THE  GOOD  MAN  AND  THE  BAD  MAN. 

*T^E  find  a remarkable  example  of  benefits  derived 
* * from  overhearing  the  secret  confabulations  of 
birds  in  a story  in  the  Brothers  Grimm’s  ' Kinder  und 
Haus  Marchen  ” — a story,  moreover,  which,  with  varia- 
tions, is  known  from  Norway  to  India,  and  of  which 
the  following  is  an  abstract : 

A poor  soldier,  who  had  been  robbed  and  beaten  by 
his  comrades  so  severely  as  to  be  deprived  of  sight, 
and  bound  to  the  foot  of  a gallows,  overhears  the  con- 
versation of  three  crows  perched  high  on  a tree.  The 
first  crow  observed  to  his  companions  that  the  princess 
was  ill,  and  the  king  had  vowed  to  marry  her  to  who- 
ever should  perfectly  cure  her,  which  may  be  done  by 
burning  a blue  flower  and  giving  her  the  ashes  to 
swallow.  The  second  crow  said  that  to-night  such  a 
dew  would  fall,  that  even  a blind  man,  if  he  washed 
his  eyes  with  it,  would  see.  The  third  crow  remarked 
that  there  was  a great  dearth  of  water  in  the  city ; 
but  if  they  would  take  away  the  large  square  stone 
by  the  fountain  in  the  market-place,  and  dig  under- 


250 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


neath  it,  the  finest  water  would  spring  up.  The  soldier 
bathes  his  eyes  in  the  dew,  and  his  sight  is  at  once 
restored.  He  then  plucks  the  blue  flower,  and  having 
burned  it,  takes  the  ashes,  and  proceeds  to  the  king’s 
court,  and  cures  the  princess.  The  king,  however, 
refuses  to  give  him  his  daughter  unless  he  can  find 
enough  water  for  the  use  of  the  town.  This  he  is 
able  to  do,  and  then  obtains  the  hand  of  the  princess. 
One  day  he  meets  the  two  wicked  comrades  who  had 
robbed  him,  told  them  of  his  good  luck  and  how  it 
came  about,  forgave  them  the  injuries  they  had  done 
him,  and  took  them  to  his  palace  and  gave  them  food 
and  clothes.  But  they  resolved  to  go  at  night  to  the 
gallows-foot,  in  hopes  of  also  hearing  of  something  to 
their  advantage.  So  off  they  went  and  sat  under  the 
tree,  where  they  heard  the  crows  saying  to  each  other, 
‘‘  Some  one  must  have  heard  us ; for  the  princess  is 
well ; the  flower  is  plucked  and  burned  ; a blind  man 
has  found  his  sight ; and  they  have  found  the  spring 
that  gives  water  to  the  whole  town.”  So  they  looked 
about  them  to  see  whether  any  one  was  eavesdropping, 
and  discovering  the  two  men  below,  they  flew  at  them 
and  pecked  out  their  eyes. 

A Horse  version,  entitled  ''  True  and  Untrue,”  though 
similar  in  outline,  differs  somewhat  in  the  details.  Two 
brothers  set  out  in  quest  of  their  fortunes.  Untrue 
eats  of  the  provisions  in  his  brother’s  scrip  until  there 
is  none  left,  then  refuses  his  brother  any  share  of  his 
own  store,  flies  into  a rage,  and  plucks  out  his  eyes. 


THE  GOOD  MAN  AND  THE  BAD  MAN. 


251 


Poor  blind  True  climbs  up  a tree  till  the  night  is  over, 
for  fear  of  the  wild  beasts.  When  the  birds  begin 
to  sing,”  said  he  to  himself,  “ I shall  know  that  it  is 
day,  and  I can  then  try  to  grope  my  way  farther  on.” 
Presently  he  heard  some  one  approach  the  foot  of  the 
tree,  and  soon  after  some  others  ; and  when  they  began 
to  greet  each  other.  True  found  that  it  was  Bruin  the 
bear,  Greylegs  the  wolf.  Slyboots  the  fox,  and  Longears 
the  hare.  From  their  conversation  he  learns  how  the 
king  of  England  may  be  cured  of  his  blindness,  his 
daughter  cured  of  dumbness,  how  to  find  a spring  of 
water  in  the  palace-yard,  and  how  to  make  the  royal 
orchard  fruitful.  True  first  restores  his  own  sight  with 
the  dew  of  the  lime-tree,  round  which  the  quartette  of 
sagacious  animals  had  held  their  meeting,  and  then 
performs  the  other  things  and  marries  the  princess. 
A beggar-lad  comes  into  the  hall  during  the  wedding 
feast — it  is  the  rascal  Untrue:  his  brother  recognises 
him,  and  after  hospitably  entertaining  him,  advises 
him  to  go  to  the  lime-tree,  where  he  also  may  learn 
some  valuable  secret.  Untrue  goes  thither  accord- 
ingly; the  bear,  the  wolf,  the  fox,  and  the  hare 
presently  meet  under  the  tree : he  pricks  up  his  ears 
to  listen,  but  has  the  mortification  to  hear  the  bear 
say  that  since  their  conversation  had  evidently  been 
overheard  at  their  last  meeting,  they  had  better  hold 
their  tongues  in  future,  and  so  they  bade  each  other 
good  night — “ 0 most  lame  and  impotent  conclusion  ! ” 

In  a Portuguese  variant,  a poor  but  very  pious 


252 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


donkey-driver,  after  having  given  up  to  his  irreligious 
comrade  his  donkey  and  merchandise,  in  token  of  his 
reliance  upon  Providence,  takes  shelter  for  the  night 
in  a cave,  where  he  overhears  some  demons  talking  of 
a well  which  had  been  sunk  in  the  neighbourhood, 
but  without  obtaining  water,  and  how  the  owner  had 
offered  a purseful  of  silver  money  to  any  one  who 
should  cause  it  to  flow  into  the  well,  and  of  the  means 
by  which  this  might  be  accomplished ; also  of  the  ill- 
ness of  the  king’s  daughter,  and  how  to  effect  her 
cure:  but  instead  of  marrying  the  princess  after  he 
has  cured  her,  the  donkey -driver  contents  himself 
with  half  of  the  king’s  revenue.  His  comrade  is 
afterwards  killed  by  the  demons. 

The  Kabail  of  Northern  Africa  relate  the  story 
thus : Two  men,  one  good,  the  other  wicked,  set  out 
together  on  a journey.  The  good  man  shares  his  own 
food  with  his  companion  till  it  is  all  consumed,  and 
the  wicked  man  refuses  to  give  him  any  portion  of 
his  store  unless  he  part  with  one  of  his  eyes,  and 
afterwards  with  the  other;  and  he  then  abandons 
the  blinded  man  to  his  fate.  The  poor  fellow  is 
directed  by  a bird  to  take  a leaf  from  an  adjacent 
tree  and  apply  it  to  his  eyes,  which  he  does,  and  his 
sight  is  at  once  restored.  Arriving  at  a great  city, 
he  learns  that  the  king  of  the  country  is  blind,  and 
after  he  has  cured  the  afflicted  monarch,  he  is  rewarded 
with  his  daughter’s  hand  in  marriage.^ 

1 ‘Contes  Populaires  de  la  Kabylie  du  Djurdjura.*  Recueillis  et 


THE  GOOD  MAN  AND  THE  BAD  MAN. 


253 


The  story  is  found  in  a somewhat  garbled  form  in 
the  Kirghis  tales  contained  in  Eadloffs  great  col- 
lection of  South-Siberian  Folk-Tales  ('Proben  der 
Volks-litteratur  der  tlirkischen  Stamme  Slid-Siberiens/ 
vol.  iii.  p.  344) : 

A good  man  and  a bad  man  were  travelling  together, 
and  the  good  man’s  food  came  to  an  end.  Appealing 
to  his  companion  for  advice,  he  was  recommended  to 
cut  off  his  ears  and  eat  them,  which  he  did.  When 
they  were  consumed,  he  again  appealed  to  his  comrade, 
who  persuaded  him  to  have  his  eyes  taken  out,  on 
which  he  lived  for  two  days.  Then  his  bad  companion 
deserted  him,  leaving  him  alone  in  a dense  forest.  As 
he  sat  there,  he  heard  a tiger,  a fox,  and  a wolf  holding 
converse  together,  and  learnt  that  two  neighbouring 
trees  had  the  power  of  giving  ears  to  the  earless  and 
eyes  to  the  blind ; that  the  bones  of  a certain  rich 
man’s  black  dog  could  bring  back  the  dead  to  life ; and 
that  a hill  not  far  off  contained  a mass  of  gold  as  large 
as  a horse’s  head.  Before  long  he  had  obtained  from 
the  trees  new  eyes  and  ears,  and  from  the  hill  the 
mass  of  gold,  with  which  he  bought  the  rich  man’s 
dog.  By  means  of  its  bones  he  restored  to  life  a khan, 
who  gratefully  bestowed  upon  his  reviver  his  daughter 

traduits  par  J.  Kiviere.  Paris:  1882. — Qab^’il,  or  Kabd’il — incor- 
rectly written  in  Europe  Kahyle  and  Kabylie — is  an  Arabic  word 
meaning  tribes,  the  plural  of  Qabila,  a tribe.  In  all  Muslim  countries 
there  are,  quite  distinct  from  townsmen,  wandering  tribes  that  move 
from  pasture  to  pasture  according  to  the  season  of  the  year,  and  those 
in  Algiers  are  called  Kab^’il,  or  tribesmen. — The  stories  collected  by 
M.  Riviere  only  exist  orally  among  the  Kaba’il,  and  thus  possess  a 
special  value  for  the  student  of  comparative  folk-lore. 


254 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


and  half  of  his  cattle.  So  he  became  rich  and  pros- 
perous. One  day  his  former  companion  came  to  see 
him,  found  out  the  secrets  of  his  recovery  and  pros- 
perity, and  said,  ''  0 my  good  one,  take  me  to  the  dark 
dense  forest  and  leave  me  there  ! Perchance  to  me, 
as  well  as  to  thee,  may  it  be  given  to  become  a man  of 
mark.  Thy  two  eyes  did  I take  from  thee,  both  thine 
ears  did  I take,^  and  I left  thee  in  the  forest : there 
didst  thou  become  a right  fortunate  man.  Now,  then, 
do  thou  also  put  out  my  two  eyes,  cut  off  both  my  ears, 
and  take  me  to  the  forest  where  I left  thee,  and  leave 
me  there.’’  So  the  good  man  did  as  he  was  requested, 
and  the  earless,  eyeless,  bad  man  remained  in  the 
forest  alone.  But  when  ''  the  fox,  the  wolf,  and  the 
tiger,  all  three  together,  examined  the  interior  of  the 
forest,  there,  at  a certain  spot,  they  found  the  bad  man, 
and  they  all  three  ate  him  up.  'From  good  comes 
good,  and  from  evil  comes  evil,’  said  they  all  three, 
and  ate  him  up.”^ 

^ From  this  it  is  evident  that  the  good  man’s  eating  his  ears  and 
eyes  (in  the  first  part  of  the  story)  is  a corruption  of  the  usual  inci- 
dent— namely,  his  parting  with  his  eyes  to  the  bad  man  in  exchange 
for  some  food. 

2 “ Notes  on  Folk-Tales,”  by  Mr  W.  R.  S.  Ralston,  in  ‘ The  Folk- 
Lore  Record,’  vol.  i.  pp.  90,  91.  Mr  Ralston  remarks  that  this  story 
is  very  popular  in  Russia,  Afanasief  giving  in  his  collection  no  fewer 
than  seven  different  versions,  in  the  introduction  to  one  of  which  (vol. 
i.  p.  10)  considerable  modern  additions  have  been  made.  Two  fellow- 
travellers  dispute  as  to  whether  it  is  better  to  live  honestly  or  dis- 
honestly, and  refer  the  question  to  a peasant,  a merchant,  and  a 
lawyer  whom  they  successively  meet  on  their  way,  and  who  express 
themselves  in  favour  of  dishonesty,  but  the  traveller  who  upholds 
honesty  is  still  of  the  same  opinion.  After  a time,  in  order  to  get  a 
morsel  of  food,  he  is  obliged  to  allow  his  antagonist  to  blind  him.  In 


THE  GOOD  MAN  AND  THE  BAD  MAN. 


255 


In  the  Arabian  tale  of  ''Abou  Neeut  and  Abou 
Neeuteen,  or  the  Well-intentioned  and  the  Double- 
minded/’^  one  of  the  additional  tales  translated  by 
Jonathan  Scott,  in  volume  vi.  of  his  edition  of  the 
‘Arabian  Nights’  Entertainments/  we  have  a different 
version  from  any  of  those  above  cited:  The  two 
friends  travel  together,  and,  coming  to  a well,  Abou 
Neeuteen  lets  the  other  down  for  water,  and,  leav- 
ing him  there,  decamps  with  all  his  property.  In  the 
well  are  two  Afreets^  conversing  together.  One  of 
them  says  that  he  has  possessed  the  beautiful  princess 
of  Mosul,  and  no  one  can  drive  him  away,  save  by 
sprinkling  an  infusion  of  wormwood  under  her  feet  on 
a Friday  during  divine  service  in  the  great  mosque. 
The  other  says  that  he  has  been  equally  fortunate, 
being  in  possession  of  such  a hidden  treasure  of  gold 
and  jewels  under  a mound  at  Mosul  as  cannot  be  com- 
puted, the  talisman  of  which  cannot  be  opened  to  any 
one  unless  by  killing  on  the  mound  a white  cock 
and  pouring  over  it  the  blood.  Having  said  this,  they 
took  their  flight  from  the  well.  At  daybreak  Abou 
Neeut  was  delivered  from  the  well  by  the  arrival  of  a 
caravan,  some  of  the  followers  of  which  went  down  to 

his  distress  he  praj^s  to  God  : “ 0 Lord,  desert  me  not,  thy  sinful  ser- 
vant ! ” Then  a voice  is  heard  from  heaven  telling  him  what  to  do  in 
order  to  recover  his  eyesight.  After  this  the  story  proceeds  in  the 
usual  way. — Ibid.,  p.  91. 

^ Dr  J.  W.  Hedhouse  suggests  for  Abou  Neeut  and  Abou  Neeuteen  : 
Abu  Niyyet,  father  (or  possessor)  of  a single  resolution  ; Abu  Niy- 
yeteyn,  father  (or  possessor)  of  two  resolutions. 

2 Afreets  (properly,  ’Ifrits)  are  powerful  evil  genii  {jinn),  generally 
inhabiting  wells  and  ruinous  buildings. 


256 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


fill  the  water-skins.  Acting  upon  the  information  he 
had  gained  from  the  conversation  of  the  Afreets,  he 
dispossesses  the  princess,  and  obtaining  the  great  trea- 
sure of  gold  and  jewels  from  the  mound  where  it  was 
concealed,  he  is  made  prime  minister,  and  marries  the 
princess.  After  some  time  Abou  Neeuteen  comes  to 
the  city  in  woful  plight ; his  old  friend  takes  him  to 
the  palace,  clothes  and  feeds  him,  and  informs  him  of 
his  good  fortune.  The  envious  fellow  determines  to 
try  his  luck  also  in  the  well ; but  no  sooner  is  he  down 
in  it  than  the  two  Afreets,  saying  to  each  other  that 
some  person  has  fathomed  their  secrets,  proceed  to  fill 
up  the  well  which  had  been  the  cause  of  all  their 
disasters,  and  hurling  huge  stones  upon  the  head  of 
Abou  Neeuteen,  crushed  him  to  death. 

This  Arabian  version  is  evidently  of  Indian  origin, 
since  it  corresponds  in  all  details  with  a Bengali  story, 
which  Mr  C.  H.  Damant  has  translated  in  the  ‘ Indian 
Antiquary,’  1875,  under  the  title  of  The  Two  Blnits.”  ^ 
A prince  and  a kotwaBs  son  travel  in  company,  and 
the  latter  lets  his  friend  down  into  a well  and  aban- 
dons him.  The  prince  hears  two  bhiits  conversing,  one 
about  having  possessed  the  king’s  daughter,  and  how 
she  may  be  cured ; the  other,  of  his  hoarded  gold,  and 
how  it  may  be  taken  from  him.  The  rest  of  the  story 
is  precisely  the  same  as  that  of  Abou  Neeut  and  his 
treacherous  comrade. 

^ Shuts  are  malignant  spirits,  haunting  cemeteries,  lurking  in  trees 
and  wells,  animating  carcases,  and  deluding  or  devouring  human  beings. 


THE  GOOD  MAN  AND  THE  BAD  MAN. 


257 


The  Persian  poet  Hatifi  {db.  a.d.  1520)  relates  the 
story,  with  additional  incidents,  in  his  romance  of 
‘ The  Seven  Faces  ’ {Heft  Menzer),  which  recounts  the 
exploits  of  King  Bahram  Ghiir,  and  how  he  built  his 
Seven  Pavilions,  and  placed  in  each  a beauty  of  the 
world”  : 

Two  youths  left  their  native  country  to  seek  their 
fortunes ; one  was  called  Khayr  (Good),  the  other 
Shar  (Evil).  After  they  had  travelled  together  for 
some  time,  the  provisions  of  Khayr  were  exhausted, 
and  his  companion,  who  had  carefully  hoarded  his 
store  of  food  and  water,  refused  to  give  him  any — not 
even  a draught  of  water.  Khayr  offered  him  two 
precious  gems  which  he  had  in  his  purse,  but  the 
wicked  fellow  would  consent  to  give  him  to  drink  only 
on  condition  that  he  would  part  with  his  eyesight. 
Tormented  at  length  by  excessive  thirst,  Khayr  bar- 
tered his  eyes  for  a draught  of  water ; but  no  sooner 
had  Shar  blinded  him  than  he  cruelly  despoiled  him  of 
his  clothes  and  other  property,  and  left  him,  without 
so  much  as  a drop  of  water,  to  mourn  his  misfortunes. 
It  happened  that  near  to  the  place  where  Khayr  lay 
with  his  mangled  eyes  streaming  blood  a wealthy  shep- 
herd had  taken  up  his  station,  and  his  daughter,  pass- 
ing by  with  a pitcher  of  water  which  she  had  drawn 
for  the  use  of  the  family,  heard  his  moans,  and,  dis- 
covering his  wretched  condition,  first  gave  him  some 
water  to  drink,  and  then  tenderly  bound  up  his  eyes 
and  led  him  to  her  father’s  dwelling.  When  the  shep- 
herd came  home  in  the  evening,  and  saw  the  poor  youth 

VOL.  I.  B 


258 


POPULAK  TALES  AND  PICTIONS. 


whom  his  daughter  had  succoured,  and  learned  that  he 
had  been  deprived  of  his  eyesight,  he  said  that  he 
knew  of  a certain  tree,  the  leaves  of  which,  made  into 
a plaster,  could  restore  his  sight,  and  added  that  among 
the  other  wonderful  qualities  of  this  tree  was  that  of 
curing  the  most  inveterate  epilepsy.  The  leaves  were 
brought  by  the  shepherd  and  applied  by  his  beautiful 
daughter  to  the  young  man’s  eyes,  and  in  a short  time 
his  sight  was  restored.  After  this,  Khayr,  beloved  by 
all  the  household,  and  especially  by  the  maiden,  for 
some  months  assists  in  keeping  the  flocks,  till  at  length 
he  thought  it  proper  to  depart  for  his  native  place. 
When  he  intimated  this  intention  to  the  shepherd  and 
his  family,  they  were  all  in  consternation,  and  the  old 
man  made  him  an  offer  of  his  daughter  in  marriage, 
which  he  gratefully  accepted,  and  they  were  wedded. 
Having  resided  for  a year  or  two  in  the  desert,  Khayr 
visited  the  tree  by  the  leaves  of  which  his  wonderful 
cure  had  been  effected ; and  of  each  kind  of  leaves  he 
took  a quantity.  About  this  time  it  was  reported  that 
the  king’s  daughter  was  afflicted  with  severe  epilepsy, 
for  the  cure  of  which  all  medicines  had  failed.  Phy- 
sicians from  various  countries  had  in  vain  exerted  their 
skill ; no  remedy  could  be  found.  The  king  had  made 
a condition  that  any  person  who  succeeded  in  relieving 
the  princess  from  the  distressing  malady  should  receive 
her  in  marriage,  and  ultimately  succeed  to  the  throne ; 
but  that  whoever  failed,  after  having  seen  his  daughter’s 
beauty,  should  inevitably  lose  his  life.  The  heads  of  a 
thousand  unsuccessful  doctors  had  already  flown  off — 


THE  GOOD  MAN  AND  THE  BAD  MAN. 


259 


townsmen  and  strangers ; and  yet  the  love  of  beauty 
and  ambition  of  greatness  and  power  were  so  irresist- 
ible, that  adventurer  followed  adventurer  with  horrible 
swiftness.  The  rumour  at  length  reached  Khayr  in  his 
desert  home.  He  undertakes  the  cure  of  the  princess, 
marries  her,  and  succeeds  to  the  throne.  Previous  to 
his  curing  the  princess,  Khayr  had  cured  the  daughter 
of  the  chief  vazir  of  blindness,  and  she  became  his 
wife ; so  that  he  was  blessed  at  once  with  no  less  than 
three  matchless  wives,  including  his  desert  bride,  who 
was,  no  doubt,  ^'his  first,  his  only  love,”  the  other 
marriages  being  de  convenance.  It  happened,  not  long 
after  he  had  settled  in  his  new  position,  that  while 
Khayr  was  walking  in  the  garden  of  his  palace  he  saw 
a man  bargaining  with  a Jew,  whom  he  recognised  as 
his  villanous  fellow-traveller  Shar.  He  gave  orders 
to  have  him  arrested  and  brought  before  him.  On 
being  asked  his  name,  he  said  it  was  Mabesher  Sefiri 
(the  traveller  who  brings  good  tidings) ; and  Khayr 
demanding  his  real  name,  and  Shar  persisting  in  con- 
cealing it,  he  declared  himself,  and  condemned  Shar  to 
death.  But  Shar  pleaded  that  he  had  simply  acted  in 
accordance  with  the  decrees  of  God  and  with  his  own 
name,  and  that  Khayr  should  act  by  him  according  to 
his  name  and  renown.^ 

Another  version  is  found  in  a beautiful  legendary 
tale  of  Tevai — the  classical  name  of  the  modern  town 

^ Abridged  from  “ Fragments  ” appended  to  Sir  Gore  Ouseley’s 
‘ Biographical  Notices  of  Persian  Poets.’ 


260 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


of  Eamnad,  in  the  district  of  Madura,  Southern  India 
— translated  by  S.  M.  Natesa  Sastri  Pandit.^  In  this 
tale  the  principal  characters  are  a king’s  son,  whose 
motto  is  Charity  alone  conquers,”  and  his  companion, 
the  son  of  the  king’s  prime  minister,  whose  motto  is 
''Absence  of  charity  alone  conquers.”  The  wicked 
youth,  in  the  course  of  their  adventures,  puts  out  the 
prince’s  eyes,  and  leaves  him  in  a most  deplorable 
condition.  But  his  eyes  are  restored  by  the  goddess 
Kali,  in  whose  temple  he  afterwards  serves  for  some 
months.  Meanwhile  the  daughter  of  the  king  of  the 
Kaveri  country  has  lost  her  eyesight,  and  the  king 
has  issued  a proclamation  that  he  will  give  his  king- 
dom and  his  daughter  to  him  who  should  cure  her  of 
her  blindness.  The  goddess,  in  reward  of  his  devo- 
tion, gives  the  prince  a quantity  of  sacred  ashes, 
which  she  instructs  him  to  apply,  for  three  consecu- 
tive days,  to  the  eyes  of  the  afflicted  princess,  and  on 
the  fourth  day  her  sight  should  be  restored.  The 
prince  accordingly  proceeds  to  the  Kaveri  country, 
is  successful  in  curing  the  princess,  and  obtains  her 
in  marriage  together  with  the  kingdom.  In  course 
of  time  his  former  companion,  the  minister’s  son, 
comes  to  the  city,  and  earns  a scanty  livelihood  by 
menial  occupations.  He  is  recognised  by  the  young 
king,  who  sends  for  him,  forgives  his  cruel  conduct 
towards  himself,  and  places  him  in  a high  and  con- 
fidential position.  But  his  evil  nature  soon  shows 
itself ; and  in  attempting  the  destruction  of  his  bene- 

^ ‘ Folk-Lore  in  Southern  India,’  p.  63. 


THE  GOOD  MAN  AND  THE  BAD  MAN. 


261 


factor,  he  is  himself  destroyed  — learning,  when  too 
late,  the  truth  of  the  prince’s  motto,  ''  Charity  alone 
conquers.” — The  tone  of  this  story  (which  must  not 
be  judged  from  my  meagre  abstract)  is  decidedly 
Buddhistic,  inculcating,  as  it  does,  the  great  Buddha’s 
leading  doctrine  of  ''  mercy  to  others.” 


262 


THE  UNGRATEFUL  SERPENT. 

"rTTHILE  popular  tales  generally  represent  animals 
* * as  grateful  for  kindness  shown  to  them, 
occasionally  they  are  exhibited  as  the  very  reverse. 
There  is,  for  example,  the  world  - wide  story  of  the 
serpent  that  was  found  by  a traveller  fast  bound 
to  a tree,  and  after  he  had  released  it,  the  ungrateful 
reptile  said  it  would  sting  him,  such  being  its  nature. 
A philosopher  coming  up  and  having  had  the  affair 
explained  to  him,  he  pretended  that  he  could  not 
decide  the  question  of  whether  the  service  rendered 
by  the  man  to  the  serpent  should  not  exempt  him 
from  being  bitten,  unless  he  saw  the  precise  condition 
in  which  the  serpent  was  before  being  set  free.  The 
serpent  consented  to  be  bound  again  to  the  tree,  upon 
which  the  philosopher  bids  it  loose  itself,  and  on  its 
answering  that  it  could  not,  “ Then,'’  says  he,  die, 
for  your  ingratitude." 

This  is  the  4th  tale  of  Peter  Alfonsus,  and  the 
^ 174th  of  the  Continental  ‘ Gesta  Eomanorum.'  It 
occurs  in  most  versions  of  the  Fables  of  Bidpai:  the 


THE  UNGEATEFUL  SERPENT. 


263 


‘ Directoriiim  Humanae  Vitae’  of  John  of  Capua;  the 
Arabic  and  Syriac  ' Kalila  wa  Dimna  ’ ; the  Persian 
‘ Anvar-i  Suhayli  ’ ; in  the  old  Indian  story  of  King 
Vikramaditya  of  Ujjain ; Miss  Frere’s  ‘ Old  Deccan 
Days  ’ ; Steel  and  Temple’s  ' Wide-Awake  Stories  ’ 
from  the  Panjab  and  Kashmir;  and  in  the  folk-lore 
of  most  countries  of  Europe. 

The  following  is  a translation  of  an  Albanian 
variant,  in  Le  Grand’s  useful  collection: 

Once  a hunter  passed  by  a quarry  and  found  a 
serpent  under  a stone.  The  reptile  called  the 
hunter  to  his  aid,  who  said,  ''I  will  not  extricate 
you,  for  you  will  eat  me.”  The  serpent  answered, 
“Deliver  me;  I will  not  eat  you.”  But  when  the 
hunter  had  drawn  away  the  stone  from  above  him, 
the  serpent  sought  to  eat  him.  The  hunter  said, 
“ Did  you  not  promise  that  you  would  not  eat  me  ? ” 
The  serpent  answered  him,  “ Hunger  wdll  not  keep 
that  bargain.”  “But,”  replied  the  hunter,  “if  you 
are  not  right  in  eating  me,  will  you  still  eat  me  ? ” 
The  serpent  said,  “Ko.”  Then  said  the  hunter, 
“ Come,  then,  let  us  make  it  the  subject  of  three 
different  questions.”  So  they  went  into  a thicket, 
where  they  found  a greyhound : they  questioned  him, 
and  he  said,  “ I was  once  with  a master,  and  I caught 
hares,  and  when  I brought  them  to  his  house  he 
could  not  find  meat  good  enough  for  me  to  eat.  But 
now,  when  I cannot  even  catch  tortoises,  because  I 
am  old,  he  wishes  to  kill  me.  This  is  why  I condemn 


264 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


thee  to  be  eaten  by  the  serpent,  for  whoever  does 
good  gets  only  evil  in  return.”  ''  Do  you  hear  ? ” said 
the  serpent  to  the  hunter ; ''  weVe  got  a judge.” 
They  went  farther,  and  met  with  a horse : they 
questioned  him,  and  he  also  replied  that  the  serpent 
would  be  right  in  eating  the  hunter.  ''Dor,”  said 
he,  " I had  a master,  who  gave  me  food  as  long  as  I 
could  do  my  journey ; but  now,  when  I cannot,  he 
wishes  to  kill  me.”  And  the  serpent  said  to  the 
hunter,  "We  have  two  judges.”  They  went  farther, 
and  found  a fox,  to  whom  the  hunter  said,  "Dear 
Eeynard,  you  must  come  to  my  aid.  Listen:  I was 
passing  a quarry,  and  under  a great  stone  I found 
this  serpent,  almost  dead.  He  asked  me  to  help  him, 
so  I took  him  out,  and  now  he  wants  to  eat  me.” 
The  fox  replied,  " Must  I be  the  judge  ? Let  us  go 
then  to  the  quarry,  and  see  how  you  found  the  ser- 
pent.” So  they  went  thither,  and  placed  the  stone 
upon  the  serpent,  and  the  fox  then  asked  him,  " Is 
that  how  you  were  ? ” The  serpent  said,  " Yes.”  " Ah, 
well,”  said  the  fox,  "just  stay  there  always.”^ 

In  Dasent’s  second  series  of  Norse  Tales,  entitled 
' Tales  from  the  Fjeld,’  it  is  a dragon  that  is  rescued 
by  a wayfarer,  and  the  fox  who  so  cleverly  entraps 
him  again,  having  been  granted  by  the  man  " the  run  ” 
of  his  poultry -yard  every  Thursday,  as  a reward  of  his 
service,  on  his  first  visit  for  a supply  of  hens  and  geese 

^ See  also  Crane’s  ' Italian  Popular  Tales,’  p.  150,  for  Sicilian  and 
Italian  parallels. 


THE  UNGRATEFUL  SERPENT. 


265 


is  beaten  almost  to  death,  and  he  exclaims  bitterly  as 
he  crawls  off,  “ Such  is  the  way  of  the  world ! ” 

In  some  Eastern  versions  the  ungrateful  animal  is 
an  alligator ; in  others  a tiger,  as  in  ' Wide-Awake 
Stories  ’ : 

A tiger  is  caught  in  a trap  that  had  been  set  for 
wild  beasts,  and  cannot  get  out.  A poor  Brahman 
comes  by,  and  the  tiger  cries,  “Let  me  out,  0 pious 
one!”  “Nay,”  says  the  Brahman,  “you’d  eat  me  if 
I did.”  “ Not  so,”  replies  the  tiger ; “ I should  be  for 
ever  grateful,  and  serve  you  as  a slave.”  At  last  the 
Brahman  lets  him  out,  upon  which  the  tiger  seizes 
him,  saying,  “ What  a fool  you  are  now  1 I shall  eat 
you.”  The  Brahman  pleads  for  his  life,  but  all  he 
could  gain  was  a promise  from  the  tiger  to  abide  by 
the  decision  of  the  first  three  things  he  chose  to  ques- 
tion. The  Brahman  refers  his  case  to  the  pipal-tiQQ, 
but  it  says  men  are  ungrateful,  and  ought  not  to  be 
allowed  to  live : “ Don’t  I give  them  shade  and  shelter  ? 
And  don’t  they  tear  down  my  branches,  to  feed  their 
cattle  on  ? ” He  next  asks  a buffalo.  “ No ; man  has 
no  gratitude.  When  I gave  milk  they  fed  me;  but 
now  that  I am  dry  they  yoke  me  and  half  starve  me.” 
Last  of  all  the  question  is  put  to  a jackal,  who  wants 
to  know  how  the  tiger  got  into  the  trap,  before  giving 
his  opinion.  So  the  tiger  enters  the  trap,  where  he  is 
“ left  lamenting,”  or  gnashing  his  molars  in  futile  grief. 


266 


THE  HARE  AND  THE  TORTOISE. 

TT  may  be  safely  asserted  that  there  exists  no  apo- 
logue,  in  any  language,  which  is  better  adapted  to 
inculcate  on  the  young  the  force  of  the  aphorism,  ''  the 
race  is  not  always  to  the  swift  nor  the  battle  to  the 
strong,’’  than  is  the  familiar  fable,  commonly  ascribed 
to  JEsop,  of  the  race  between  the  hare  and  the  tortoise. 
The  moral  lesson  it  teaches — that  perseverance  may 
achieve  success  in  most  untoward  circumstances — 
ingenuous  youth  on  the  threshold  of  active  life  should 
"'bind  as  a sign  upon  his  forehead  and  as  frontlets 
between  his  eyes.”  This  is  how  the  fable  is  generally 
told : 

A hare  insulted  a tortoise  on  account  of  his  slow- 
ness, and  vainly  boasted  of  her  own  great  speed  in 
running.  Let  us  make  a match,”  replied  the  tortoise. 
“ I’ll  run  you  five  miles  for  five  pounds,  and  the  fox 
yonder  shall  be  umpire  of  the  race.”  The  hare  agreed, 
and  away  they  both  started  together ; but  the  hare,  by 
reason  of  her  exceeding  swiftness,  outran  the  tortoise 
to  such  a degree  that  she  made  a jest  of  the  matter, 


THE  HARE  AND  THE  TORTOISE. 


267 


and  finding  herself  a little  tired,  squatted  in  a tuft  of 
fern  that  grew  by  the  way,  and  took  a nap,  thinking 
that  if  the  tortoise  went  by,  she  could  at  any  time 
fetch  him  up  with  all  the  ease  imaginable.  In  the 
meanwhile  the  tortoise  came  jogging  along  at  a slow 
but  continued  pace,  and  the  hare,  out  of  too  great 
security  and  confidence  of  victory,  oversleeping  herself, 
the  tortoise  arrived  at  the  end  of  the  race  first. 

Analogues  of  this  celebrated  fable,  in  which  a 
race  is  run  between  two  creatures  of  very  unequal 
swiftness  and  the  slower  is  the  winner,  are  known 
among  widely  - separated  peoples ; but  in  these  the 
motif  is  different — the  less  swift  animal  succeeding 
by  its  superior  cleverness  in  tricking  its  antagonist. 
Sir  Alexander  Gordon  has  furnished  two  interesting 
versions  from  Fiji,  one  of  which  is  as  follows : 

The  crane  and  the  crab  quarrelled  as  to  their  powers 
of  racing.  The  crab  said  he  would  go  the  faster,  and 
that  the  crane  might  fly  across  from  point  to  point, 
while  he  went  round  by  the  shore.  So  the  crane  flew 
off  and  the  crab  stayed  quietly  in  his  hole,  trusting  to 
the  multitude  of  his  brethren  to  deceive  the  crane. 
And  the  crane  flew  from  point  to  point,  and  seeing  a 
crab-hole,  put  down  his  ear  and  heard  a buzzing  noise. 
“ That  slave  is  before  me,’’  said  he,  and  flew  on  to  the 
next  point,  where  the  same  thing  happened,  till  at 
last,  on  reaching  a point  above  Serua,  the  crane  fell 
exhausted,  and  was  drowned  in  the  sea. 

In  the  other  Fijian  fable,  the  contest  is  between  a 


268 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


crane  and  a butterfly.  The  latter  challenges  the  crane 
to  fly  to  Tonga,  tempting  him  to  do  so  by  asking  if  he 
was  fond  of  shrimps.  The  butterfly  perches  on  the 
crane’s  back,  without  the  crane  being  aware  of  it,  and 
whenever  the  bird  looks  round  and  says  to  himself, 
“ That  low-born  fellow  is  gone ; I can  rest  and  fly 
slowly  now,  without  fear  of  his  overtaking  me,”  the 
butterfly  leaves  his  back  and  flies  a little  way  ahead, 
saying,  ‘'Here  I am,  cousin,”  till  the  poor  crane 
dies  from  sheer  exhaustion. 

Several  forms  of  the  story  are  current  among  the 
natives  of  Madagascar.  For  instance:  Once  upon  a 
time  it  was  agreed  between  a frog  and  a wild-hog  that 
they  should  race  to  the  top  of  a hill.  But  just  as  the 
hog  commenced  to  run,  the  frog  leaped  upon  his  neck, 
and  the  hog  knew  nothing  about  it,  for  he  did  not  feel 
him  at  all,  being  big  in  the  neck,  while  the  frog  was  so 
light  that  his  weight  did  not  ruffle  a hair.  So  the 
wild-hog  ran,  and  raced,  and  galloped,  and  fumed ; 
and  just  when  he  arrived  at  the  goal,  the  frog  leaped 
off,  but  the  wild-hog  did  not  see  him,  and  so  he  was 
forced  to  say,  “ Why,  you  fellow,  you  have  done  it.” 
Then  he  proposed  that  they  should  see  which  of  them 
could  leap  best.  “Just  as  you  please,”  replied  the 
frog.  “ Do  your  best,  for  if  you  don’t  exert  yourself 
you  will  regret  it,  so  don’t  have  a stomach-ache  for 
nothing.”  So  the  two  came  to  the  water-side  to  try 
who  could  leap  farthest.  And  when  they  came  there, 
and  the  wild  hog  was  just  about  to  do  his  best,  the  frog 


THE  HARE  AND  THE  TORTOISE. 


269 


jumped  again  upon  his  neck.  And  again  the  stupid 
fellow  knew  nothing  about  it,  for  what  good  is  it  to  be 
big  if  one  has  no  sense  ? And  so,  when  they  were  just 
at  the  goal,  the  frog  leaped  off  again,  and  so  he  was 
first,  upon  which  the  wild-hog  foamed  at  the  mouth, 
and  his  eyes  turned  red.  And  again  he  was  astonished 
to  see  the  frog  take  it  so  easily,  and  said,  There  is  no 
getting  the  better  of  you,  you  rascal ! 

In  another  Malagasy  story  the  wild-hog  reappears 
contending  for  superiority  of  speed  with  a chameleon : 
One  day  as  a wild-hog  was  setting  off  to  hunt,  he 
met  with  a chameleon  on  the  road  by  the  side  of  a 
watercourse,  and  as  he  looked  at  the  chameleon  he 
exclaimed,  Dear  me,  what  a strange  way  of  walking 
you  have,  friend ! Judging  from  the  way  you  walk, 
one  would  think  you  could  never  get  enough  food, 
friend,  for  you  walk,  so  slowly.  So  take  care  lest  some 
furious  beast  comes  by  and  tramples  you  suddenly  to 
death,  for  you  are  both  weak  and  very  slow  in  moving 
about.  So  I think  we  two  will  separate  here  at  this 
watercourse ; and  although  I don’t  walk  quickly,  but 
go  along  quite  gently,  just  look,  for  when  I have 
crossed  over  this  valley  you  will  even  not  have  crossed 
the  bed  of  this  little  stream.”  The  chameleon  replied, 
''  True  enough,  friend,  I seem  to  be  very  weak,  and  to 
go  very  gently  indeed.  At  the  same  time,  remember 
that  we  each  possess  what  is  most  fitting  for  us ; and 
so  you  are  able  to  get  food  to  satisfy  you,  and  I also 
obtain  food  to  satisfy  myself.”  And  then  the  chame- 
leon spoke  again,  saying,  ''  Excuse  me,  sir,  for  while  I 


270 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


am  but  a little  one  challenging  a big  one,  yet,  if  it 
would  not  make  you  angry,  let  us  two  play  a little 
along  this  watercourse.”  The  wild-hog  replied,  But 
what  sort  of  play  would  you  like  us  to  have  ? ” The 
chameleon  said,  Although  you  are  certainly  swift  of 
foot,  and  I go  very  slowly,  come,  let  us  make  a bet 
about  our  racing,  elder  brother.’’  Then  the  wild-hog 
was  inwardly  angry,  and  said,  “ Come,  then,  let  us  two 
go  up  yonder  a little  higher  to  try  our  speed,  for  there 
is  a spacious  common,  while  it  is  boggy  where  we  are 
just  now ; and  if  you  should  be  struck  even  by  the 
mud  thrown  up  by  my  feet,  you  will  be  hurt.  So 
let  us  go  yonder  to  that  spacious  ground,  and  if  you 
outrun  me,  then  take  me  and  all  my  family  for  your 
servants.”  Then  the  chameleon  answered,  “ Why  are 
you  angry,  elder  brother  ? For  you  alone  I cannot  be 
a match,  for  you  make  me  afraid ; how  much  more, 
then,  if  I had  all  your  family  as  my  servants  ? But  if 
it  is  only  play  we  are  to  engage  in,  let  us  then  go 
up  yonder  to  try  our  speed.”  So  they  went  up  to  the 
wide  common,  and  agreed  together,  saying,  “At  yonder 
tree-trunk,  where  the  long  v6ro  grass  is  growing,  let  us 
make  our  goal,  to  see  who  comes  in  first.”  And  that 
being  settled,  they  both  arranged  themselves  in  good 
order,  the  wild-hog  saying,  “Now shall  we  run  off?” 
Then  said  the  chameleon,  “Wait  a little  first,  that  I 
may  look  well  at  yonder  stepping-place.”  But  the 
chameleon  was  crafty,  and  climbed  up  the  long  grass 
close  to  the  mane  of  the  wild  hog,  and  when  he  was 
securely  fixed  in  the  mane,  he  said,  “ Now  run,  elder 


271 


THE  HARE  AND  THE  TORTOISE. 

brother!’’  And  as  the  wild-hog  galloped  away,  the 
chameleon  kept  fast  hold  of  his  mane  and  tail ; and 
when  he  came  yonder  to  the  appointed  place,  he  leaped 
off  on  to  the  long  grass.  So,  as  the  wild-hog  stood 
looking  behind  him,  the  chameleon  said,  ''  Don’t  look 
behind  for  me,  elder  brother,  for  here  I am  in  front  of 
you.”  So  the  wild-hog  was  both  astonished  and  angry, 
and  ran  off  fast  again.  But  the  chameleon  held  fast 
by  his  mane  as  before.  And  so,  after  they  had  gone 
thus  to  and  fro  for  a long  time,  the  wild-hog  was  dead 
with  fatigue,  while  the  chameleon  retained  his  shrewd- 
ness ; for  the  wild-hog  was  killed  by  his  strength  like 
the  axe,”  and  did  not  think  of  the  cunning  of  his  com- 
panion, but  only  of  his  own  size.^ 

A different  device  was  adopted  by  a tortoise  in  a 
competition  with  a lion,  according  to  a Sinhalese  ver- 
sion, translated  by  Mr  W.  Goonetilleke,  in  ‘ The  Orien- 
talist,’ vol.  i.  p.  87 : 

Once  a tortoise  saw  a lion  on  the  bank  of  a narrow 
river,  and  said  to  him,  I lay  a wager  that  I shall  get 
to  the  other  side  of  this  river  by  swimming  across  it 
sooner  than  you  can  by  jumping  over  it.”  The  lion 
accepted  the  challenge,  and  a day  was  fixed  for  the 
trial  of  their  speed.  In  the  meantime  the  tortoise 
asked  a relative  of  his  to  be  on  one  side  of  the  river 
on  the  day  appointed,  while  he  himself  would  be  on 
the  other  side.  Each  was  to  have  a bud  of  the  ratmal 

^ “ Malagasy  Folk-Tales,”  by  the  Rev.  James  Sibree,  junior  ; in  the 
‘Folk-Lore  Journal  ’ (1884),  vol.  ii.  pp.  80,  81,  166-168. 


272 


POPULAK  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


flower  in  his  mouth.  On  the  day  fixed  the  lion  made 
his  appearance,  and  said  to  the  tortoise,  ''Are  you 
ready  " Yes,  I am,’’  answered  the  tortoise.  "Well, 
then,  let  us  begin,”  rejoined  the  lion.  This  being 
agreed  to,  the  lion  jumped  to  the  other  side,  and  was 
surprised  to  see  the  tortoise  already  there.  They  then 
agreed  to  continue  the  course  till  one  of  them  should 
be  tired  and  give  up  the  wager.  So  the  lion  kept  on 
jumping  from  that  side  to  this,  until  at  last  he  was  so 
exhausted  that  he  fell  into  the  river  and  was  drowned. 

From  Ceylon  the  story  may  have  been  imported 
into  Siam,  where,  however,  it  is  related  in  a form 
which  seems  to  indicate  an  Indian  extraction.  Adolf 
Bastien  has  given  it  in  his  collection  of  tales,  made  by 
himself  during  a lengthened  sojourn  in  Siam:^ 

It  happened  once  that  Phaya  Kruth  ^ was  in  search 
of  nagas  snakes]  to  fill  his  crop  with,  but  could 
not  find  a sufficient  number  of  them.  He  therefore 
came  to  a lake,  and  seeing  a tortoise  in  it,  thought  of 
eating  him  up.  But  the  tortoise  cried  out,  "Before 
you  devour  me,  let  us  run  a race.”  Phaya  Kruth 
agreed  to  the  proposal,  and  proudly  rose  up  high  in 
the  air.  In  the  meantime  the  tortoise  called  together 

1 Translated  by  Mr  Goonetilleke,  in  ‘ The  Orientalist,’  vol.  i.  p.  88, 
from  the  German  version  of  Herr  Bastien,  reproduced  in  ‘ Orient 
und  Occident,’  band  hi.  s.  497. 

2 Phaya  Kruth  is  Vishnu’s  vehicle,  Garuda,  who,  at  the  direction 
of  Kasyapa,  rushed  into  heaven  itself  and  carried  off  the  Amrita  from 
the  gods  in  order  to  ransom  his  mother,  who  had  been  captured  by 
the  snakes. 


THE  HARE  AND  THE  TORTOISE. 


273 


all  Ills  relatives  and  acquaintances — the  whole  genera- 
tion of  tortoises — and  placed  them  in  rows  of  100,  of 
1000,  of  10,000,  of  100,000,  of  1,000,000,  and  of 
10,000,000,  covering  the  whole  ground.  Kruth  flew 
about  with  the  whole  strength  of  his  wings,  and  the 
tortoise  called  out  to  him,  '‘Well,  let  us  begin.  I beg 
your  highness  to  fly  along  the  sky  while  I move  in 
the  water.  We  shall  see  which  of  us  will  be  the 
winner.  If  I lose  I shall  give  myself  up  for  a prey.’’ 
Kruth  flew  forwards  with  all  his  might,  and  then 
stopped  and  called  out  to  the  tortoise ; but  to  which- 
ever side  he  flew,  the  tortoise  always  answered  him 
from  ahead.  Kruth  then  flew  again  as  fast  as  he 
could,  but  at  every  point  the  tortoise  was  in  advance 
of  him.  He  then  flew  and  flew  as  far  as  the  great 
mountain,  the  sacred  Himaphan,  and  at  last  exclaimed, 
" Hear,  0 tortoise ! you  indeed  understand  how  to  run 
pretty  fast,”  and  giving  up  the  race,  he  alighted  on  a 
ratJial-ticQQ,  the  place  of  his  abode,  to  rest. 

The  story  is  most  likely  to  be  known  to  the  Mon- 
golian races,  in  common  with  other  tales  and  fables  of 
Buddhist  invention  or  adaptation.  In  the  incident  of 
the  Brave  Little  Tailor  (in  the  German  story,  see  ante, 
p.  151)  seating  himself  among  the  branches  of  the  tree, 
which  he  undertook  to  carry  along  with  the  giant,  we 
seem  to  have  a reflection  of  the  device  of  the  frog  and 
the  chameleon  clinging  to  the  neck  of  the  wild-hog,  in 
the  Malagasy  versions,  and  of  that  of  the  butterfly 
perched  on  the  crane  in  the  Fijian  variant. 

VOL.  I. 


s 


274 


POPULAK  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


NOTE. 

The  Origin  of  Fables. 

The  term  Fable  is  often  indiscriminately  applied  to  any  kind 
of  fictitious  tale,  but  it  properly  signifies  a moral  narrative  in 
which  beasts,  birds,  or  fishes  are  the  characters.  Although  it 
is  generally  allowed  that  Fable  was  the  earliest  form  of  narra- 
tive designed  to  convey  moral  instruction,  yet  it  is  by  no  means 
agreed  among  the  learned  in  what  country  of  remote  antiquity 
it  had  its  origin.  A modern  German  rabbi.  Dr  Landsberger,  in 
his  erudite  little  treatise,  ‘Die  Fabeln  des  Sophos,’  contends 
that  the  Hebrews  were  the  first  to  employ  fables  for  didactic 
purposes  ; and  we  have  probably  one  of  the  oldest  extant  fables 
in  the  Book  of  Judges,  ix.  8-15,  related  by  Jotham  to  the  people 
of  Israel,  of  the  trees  desiring  a king.  Josephus  informs  us  that 
Solomon  “ composed  of  parables  and  similitudes  three  thousand ; 
for  he  spoke  a parable  upon  every  sort  of  tree,  from  the 
hyssop  to  the  cedar ; and  in  like  manner,  also  about  beasts, 
about  all  sorts  of  living  creatures,  whether  upon  earth,  or  in 
the  seas,  or  in  the  air ; for  he  was  not  unacquainted  with  any 
of  their  natures,  nor  omitted  inquiring  about  them,  but  de- 
scribed them  all  like  a philosopher,  and  demonstrated  his  ex- 
quisite knowledge  of  their  several  properties.”  ^ Dr  Landsberger 
asserts  that  the  sages  of  India  were  indebted  to  the  Hebrews 
for  the  idea  of  teaching  by  means  of  fables,  probably  during  the 
reign  of  Solomon,  who  is  believed  to  have  had  commerce  with 
the  western  coasts  of  Hindustan.  But  this  is  mere  conjecture. 

“ As  far  as  relates  to  teaching  by  apologues,”  says  Dr  H.  H. 
Wilson,  “ although  there  can  be  no  doubt  that  it  was  a national 
contrivance  [of  the  Hindus],  devised  by  them  for  their  own  use, 
and  not  borrowed  from  their  neighbours,  yet  there  is  no  suffi- 
cient reason  to  suppose  that  it  was  originally  confined  to  them, 
or  at  first  communicated  by  them  to  other  nations.  It  has  been 
urged,  with  some  plausibility,  that  the  universal  prevalence 
amongst  the  Hindus  of  the  doctrine  of  the  metempsychosis  was 
calculated  to  recommend  to  their  belief  the  notion  that  beasts 


THE  ORIGIN  OF  FABLES. 


27  5 

and  birds  might  reason  and  converse,  and  that  consequently  the 
plan  of  such  dialogues  probably  originated  with  them  ; but  the 
notion  is  one  that  readily  suggests  itself  to  the  imagination,  and 
an  inventive  fancy  was  quite  as  likely  as  a psychological  dogma 
to  have  gifted  mute  creatures  with  intelligence.  At  any  rate, 
we  know  that,  as  an  article  of  poetical  and  almost  of  religious 
faith,  it  was  known  to  the  Greeks  at  an  early  date,  for  Homer 
is  authority  for  the  speech  of  horses.  Without  affirming  the 
apocryphal  existence  of  ^sop,  we  cannot  doubt  that  fables  such 
as  are  ascribed  to  him  were  current  even  prior  to  his  supposed 
date  ; and  we  have  an  instance  of  the  fact  in  the  story  of  the 
Hawk  and  the  Nightingale  of  Hesiod.  Other  specimens  of  the 
same  class  of  compositions  are  afforded  by  the  fable  of  the  Fox 
and  the  Ape  of  Archilochus,  of  which  a fragment  is  preserved 
by  Eustathius  ; and  by  that  of  the  Eagle  and  the  Fox,  which 
is  attributed  to  the  same  writer,  and  is  an  established  member 
of  all  collections  of  fables,  both  in  Asia  and  in  Europe.  Eoman 
tradition — it  would  have  once  been  called  history — furnishes 
at  least  one  well-known  instance  of  popular  instruction  by  fable, 
which  Menenius  was  not  likely  to  have  learnt  from  the  Hindus  ; 
and  various  examples  of  this  style  of  composition  are  familiarly 
known  as  occurring  in  Scripture.  Although  the  invention  was 
very  probably  of  Eastern  origin,  we  cannot  admit  that  it  was 
in  any  exclusive  degree  a contrivance  of  the  Hindus,  or  that 
it  was  imparted  originally  by  them  to  other  Asiatic  nations. 
If  such  a communication  did  take  place,  it  must  have  occurred 
at  a period  anterior  even  to  Hindu  tradition.” 

The  danger  of  attempting  openly  to  administer  reproof  to 
absolute  Asiatic  potentates  may  have  led  to  the  invention  of 
fables,  in  which  the  lessons  intended  to  be  imparted  were  veiled 
under  ingenious  fictions  of  animals.  Oriental  historians  have 
preserved  a curious  anecdote  of  a tyrannical  monarch  having 
been  reclaimed  by  such  means.  A wise  and  prudent  vazir  once 
related  the  following  fable  to  his  royal  master  : There  was  an 
owl  in  El-Basra  and  an  owl  in  El-Mosul.  And  the  owl  of  El- 
Basra  said  to  the  other  one  day,  ^‘Give  me  thy  daughter  in 
marriage  to  my  son  ” Quoth  the  owl  of  El-Mosul,  “ I consent, 
on  condition  that  thou  give  me  as  her  dowry  a hundred  ruined 


276 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


villages.”  That,”  replied  the  owl  of  El-Basra,  “ I cannot  do 
at  present ; but  if  Allah  spare  the  sultan  another  year,  I will 
do  what  thou  requirest.”  The  sultan,  deeply  impressed  by  this 
simple  fable,  at  once  caused  all  the  ruined  towns  and  villages 
to  be  rebuilt,  and  henceforward  studied  to  promote  the  well- 
being of  his  subjects,  and  to  render  his  rule  easy  and  acceptable 
to  them. 


277 


THE  FOUR  CLEVER  BROTHERS. 
CCOEDINGr  to  one  of  Grimm’s  fairy  tales  of  Ger- 


many,  a poor  man  sent  his  four  sons  away,  each  to 
learn  some  craft  by  which  he  should  earn  his  living. 
Having  gone  some  distance  together,  they  separate  at 
four  cross-roads,  agreeing  to  meet  at  the  same  spot 
that  day  four  years  hence.  The  eldest  learnt  to  be  an 
expert  thief,  but  “ only  of  fair  game  ” ; the  second  was 
a skilful  star-gazer,  and  received  from  his  master,  as  a 
parting  gift,  a glass,  by  which  he  could  see  all  that  was 
going  on  in  the  sky  and  on  the  earth ; the  third  had 
become  an  expert  archer,  under  the  tuition  of  a hunts- 
man, who  presented  him  with  a bow,  with  which  he 
was  sure  to  hit  whatever  he  shot  at ; and  the  youngest 
became  so  clever  a tailor  that  his  master  gave  him  a 
needle  with  which  he  might  sew  anything,  no  matter 
how  hard  or  how  soft  or  brittle,  so  that  no  seam  could 
be  discovered.  They  each  give  proof  of  their  skill 
before  their  father : the  star-gazer  tells  by  means  of 
his  magic  telescope  how  many  eggs  are  in  a bird’s  nest 
high  up  in  a tree ; the  thief  takes  the  eggs  from  be- 


278 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


neath  the  bird  without  its  knowledge ; the  archer  cuts 
all  five  eggs  in  two  with  one  shot,  although  placed  one 
at  each  corner  of  the  table  and  the  fifth  in  the  centre ; 
the  tailor  sews  them  up  again  with  his  wonderful 
needle : and  when  the  birds  are  hatched,  lo ! each  has 
only  a little  red  streak  across  its  neck,  where  they  had 
been  sewed  together  ! Some  time  after  this  the  king’s 
daughter  was  carried  off.  The  king  promised  her  as 
the  wife  of  the  man  who  recovered  her.  The  second 
son,  by  means  of  his  glass,  discovered  her  sitting  on  a 
rock  by  the  sea  and  a fierce  dragon  guarding  her.  The 
king  gave  them  a ship,  and  they  sailed  away  till  they 
came  to  the  place.  But  the  archer  dared  not  shoot, 
lest  he  should  kill  the  princess ; so  the  thief  stole  her 
away  while  the  dragon  was  asleep.  They  had  not 
sailed  far  on  their  way  back  when  the  dragon  awoke 
and  flew  after  them ; the  huntsman  shot  him  through 
the  heart,  but,  unluckily,  as  he  fell  he  upset  the  boat, 
and  they  had  to  swim  upon  a few  planks.  Then  the 
tailor  sewed  the  planks  together  with  his  wonderful 
needle,  and  they  sailed  about  and  gathered  the  pieces 
of  their  boat,  which  he  also  sewed  together,  and  so  they 
reached  the  ship  and  got  home  safe.  They  brought 
the  princess  to  her  father,  and  each  of  them  claimed 
her : the  second,  because  he  had  discovered  where  she 
was;  the  first,  because  he  had  stolen  her;  the  third, 
because  he  had  slain  the  dragon;  and  the  youngest, 
because  he  had  sewed  the  planks  and  thus  saved  all 
their  lives.  But  it  happened  that  the  princess  was 
attached  to  another  person,  so  the  father  decided  that 


THE  FOUR  CLEVER  BROTHERS. 


279 


she  should  be  married  to  none  of  the  sons.  But  the 
king  gave  each  of  them  half  a kingdom,  and  they 
lived  contented  and  happy  ever  after. 

A very  curious  version  is  found  in  the  Albanian 
Tales,  translated  into  French  by  M.  Dozen,  under  the 
title  of  ‘ Le  Pou  ’ (No.  4 of  his  collection) : The 
devil  having  whisked  away  to  his  grim  abode  the 
beautiful  daughter  of  a king,  the  latter  offered  her 
hand  in  marriage  to  whoever  should  rescue  her  from 
the  arch-fiend’s  clutches.  Seven  youths  present  them- 
selves : the  first  could  hear  sounds  at  any  distance ; 
the  second  could  cause  the  earth  to  open;  the  third 
could  steal  from  any  one  without  his  knowledge ; the 
fourth  could  throw  an  object  to  the  end  of  the  world ; 
the  fifth  could  instantaneously  erect  an  impregnable 
and  inaccessible  tower;  the  sixth  could  bring  down 
anything,  however  high,  with  a single  shot ; and  the 
seventh  could  catch  whatever  fell  from  the  sky,  no 
matter  how  great  the  altitude.  They  set  off ; and 
having  travelled  some  distance,  the  first  youth  laid 
his  ear  to  the  ground,  and  then  said,  ''  I hear  him — 
command  thou,”  addressing  the  second  youth,  ‘‘the 
earth  to  open  at  this  spot,”  which  being  done,  im- 
mediately the  earth  opened,  and  they  descended  into 
its  bowels,  where,  guided  by  the  loud  noise  of  snoring, 
they  came  upon  the  fiend  sound  asleep,  with  the 
princess  clutched  to  his  breast.  The  third  youth,  by 
his  art,  removed  the  princess  without  awaking  the 
sleeping  fiend,  at  the  same  time  putting  a toad  in  her 


280 


POPULAE  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


place.  Then  the  fourth  took  off  one  of  the  devil’s 
shoes  and  threw  it  to  the  end  of  the  world,  after 
which  they  all  returned  by  the  way  they  had  come, 
and  commenced  their  journey  back  to  the  king’s 
dominions.  But  presently  the  arch-fiend  awoke,  and 
the  grimy  cavern  resounded  with  his  bellowing  on 
his  discovering  that  the  princess  was  gone ; and  his 
rage  was  not  less  when  he  found  that  one  of  his  shoes 
lay  at  the  end  of  the  world,  since  he  well  knew  that 
his  journey  thither  to  fetch  it  (for  apparently  he  had 
not  any  sons  of  St  Crispin  among  his  subjects  to  make 
him  another)  would  give  the  fugitives  a good  start  of 
him.  Having,  with  his  utmost  diligence,  recovered 
his  precious  shoe,  he  sped  after  the  fugitives,  who 
perceiving  him  in  the  distance,  the  fifth  youth  in  a 
moment  erected  a lofty  tower,  in  which  they  took 
reTuge — and  not  an  instant  too  soon,  for  hardly  were 
they  within,  when  the  enraged  fiend  came  up.  Find- 
ing all  his  efforts  to  break  into  the  tower  futile,  the 
crafty  one  told  them  that  he  would  go  away  and 
trouble  them  no  more  if  they  would  let  him  have  one 
last  look  at  the  princess:  they  made  a very  small 
aperture  through  which  he  might  see  the  lady,  when, 
in  less  than  no  time,”  he  drew  her  through  it,  and 
flew  with  her  high  up  into  the  air.  The  sixth  youth 
now  brought  his  special  art  into  play,  by  drawing  his 
bow  and  shooting  the  fiend,  who,  writhing  with  pain, 
dropped  the  princess,  and  the  seventh  youth  caught 
her  as  she  fell,  so  that  she  was  uninjured.  Eesuming 
their  journey,  they  in  due  time  reached  the  palace  in 


THE  FOUR  CLEVER  BROTHERS. 


281 


safety,  and  the  king,  delighted  to  have  his  daughter 
restored  to  him,  desired  her  to  choose  one  of  the  seven 
clever  youths  for  her  husband.  ''  They  have  all  con- 
tributed to  my  safety,”  said  the  princess,  ''  especially 
he  who  caught  me  as  I fell.”  Now  the  seventh  youth 
was  the  youngest  and  best  lookmg,  so  she  chose  him 
for  her  husband;  but  the  others  were  all  richly  re- 
warded by  the  king. 

In  the  Kalmuk  tales  of  ' Siddhi  Kiir  ’ (Second  Eola- 
tion) a rich  youth,  an  astrologer,  a mechanic,  a painter, 
a physician,  and  a smith  go  forth  together  into  a 
foreign  country,  and  coming  to  the  mouth  of  a great 
river,  each  plants  a tree  of  life,  and,  agreeing  to  meet 
at  the  same  spot  again,  they  separate,  each  following 
one  of  the  branches  of  the  river  (the  four  cross-roads 
of  the  German  tale).  The  youth  marries  a beautiful 
maiden,  who  is  ravished  from  him  by  the  khan,  and 
he  himself  is  murdered  and  buried  beneath  a rock. 
When  the  others  meet  at  the  place  where  they  separ- 
ated, they  find  the  youth’s  tree  of  life  withered.  The 
astrologer  discovers  where  his  body  lay;  the  smith 
breaks  the  rock,  and  draws  it  from  beneath ; and  the 
physician,  by  means  of  a wonderful  cordial,  restores 
the  youth  to  life.  Then  he  informed  them  how  the 
khan  had  stolen  away  his  lovely  wife,  so  they  re- 
solved to  rescue  her.  And  the  mechanic  constructed 
a wooden  garuda,^  which  could  move  through  the  air 
like  a living  bird ; and  the  painter  decorated  it  in  the 
^ Garuda  is  the  Bird  of  Vishnu  in  Hindd  mythology. 


282 


POPULAE  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


finest  colours.  Then  the  youth  seated  himself  within 
the  wooden  garuda,  which  flew  up  through  the  air, 
and  hovering  above  the  royal  residence,  the  khan, 
astonished  at  the  beauty  of  the  bird,  told  his  wife  to 
go  to  the  roof  of  the  house  and  offer  it  all  kinds  of 
choice  food.  When  she  recognised  the  youth,  she 
flew  into  his  arms,  and  instantly  seating  her  beside 
him,  and  turning  the  peg  that  guided  the  bird,  he  soon 
descended  among  his  companions,  who,  on  seeing  the 
beauty  of  the  damsel,  began  to  quarrel  for  her  posses- 
sion, and  drew  their  knives  and  slew  each  other. 

A different  form  of  the  story  is  found  in  IsTakhshabf  s 
Persian  Tales  of  a Parrot  (Ttiti  Nama) ; Night  34  of 
the  MS.,  No.  2573  in  the  Library  of  the  India  Office : 
A rich  merchant  of  Kabul  had  a beautiful  daughter, 
named  Zuhra  (or  Venus),  who  had  many  wealthy 
suitors,  but  declared  that  she  would  marry  only  a man 
who  was  completely  wise  or  very  skilful.  Three  young 
men  presented  themselves  before  the  merchant,  saying 
that  if  his  daughter  demands  a man  of  skill  for  her 
husband,  either  of  them  was  an  eligible  candidate. 
The  first  youth  said  that  his  art  was  to  discover  the 
whereabouts  of  anything  that  was  lost,  and  to  predict 
future  events.  The  second  could  make  a horse  of  wood, 
which  would  float  in  the  air  like  Solomon’s  throne. 
And  the  third  was  an  archer,  and  could  pierce  any 
object  at  which  he  might  shoot  with  his  arrow.  The 
merchant  having  reported  to  his  daughter  the  wonder- 
ful acquirements  of  her  three  new  suitors,  she  promised 


THE  FOUR  CLEVER  BROTHERS. 


283 


to  give  her  decision  next  morning.  But  the  same  night 
she  disappeared,  and  the  unhappy  father  sent  for  the 
three  youths  to  rescue  his  daughter  by  the  exercise  of 
their  arts.  The  first  youth  discovered  that  a div  (or 
demon)  had  carried  the  damsel  to  the  summit  of  a 
mountain,  which  was  inaccessible  to  men.  The  second 
made  a wooden  horse,  and  gave  it  to  the  third,  who 
rode  upon  it,  quickly  reached  the  mountain,  killed 
the  div  with  an  arrow,  and  brought  away  the  maiden. 

Each  of  the  three  claimed  her  as  his  by  right,  and 
the  dispute  continued.” 

We  find  another  variant  in  the  unique  Persian 
MS.  text  of  the  ' Sindibad  Nama,’  preserved  in  the 
India  Office  Library,  where  it  forms  the  last  of  the 
tales  related  by  the  prince.  A king’s  daughter,  while 
sporting  with  her  maidens  in  a garden,  is  carried  away 
by  a demon  to  his  cave  in  the  mountains  of  Yemen. 
The  king  offers  the  hand  of  the  princess  in  marriage, 
and  half  his  kingdom,  to  the  man  who  should  bring  her 
back.  Four  brothers  undertake  the  adventure : One  is 
a guide,  who  had  travelled  over  the  world ; the  second 
a daring  robber,  who  would  have  taken  the  prey  from 
the  lion’s  mouth;”  the  third  a warrior,  like  Eustam ; 
and  the  fourth  a skilful  physician.  The  guide  leads 
the  others  to  the  demon’s  cave ; the  robber  steals  the 
damsel,  in  the  absence  of  the  demon ; the  damsel  being 
very  ill,  the  physician  restores  her  to  health ; while  the 
warrior  puts  to  flight  a whole  army  of  divs  who  had 
sallied  forth  with  huge  clubs  on  their  shoulders. 


284 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


The  Japanese  seem  to  have  been  familiar  with  the 
story  as  early  at  least  as  the  beginning  of  the  tenth 
century,  when  their  classical  romance,  ' Genji  Mono- 
gatari,’  was  composed,  in  which  one  of  the  characters, 
speaking  of  a young  lady  whose  father  had  entertained 
great  hopes  of  her  matrimonial  success,  exclaims,  ''  Ah, 
she  is  a woman  who  is  likely  to  become  the  Queen  of 
the  Blue  Main ! ” On  this  the  translator,  Suyematz 
Kenchis,  has  the  following  note : “ In  an  old  Indian 
story,  a certain  king  of  ancient  times  had  a beautiful 
daughter.  Four  neighbouring  kings  became  her  suitors. 
Suddenly  the  daughter  was  lost.  Her  parents  made 
every  search,  and  it  was  at  last  discovered  that  there  was 
a dragon’s  castle  at  the  bottom  of  the  blue  main.  The 
dragon  king  had  carried  her  off  and  placed  her  in  his 
castle.  The  father  and  the  four  suitor  kings  went  there 
together,  and  having  rescued  her,  brought  her  back.” — 
The  circumstance  that  in  the  German  version,  as  in  the 
Japanese,  it  is  a '^dragon”  that  carries  off  the  damsel, 
may  perhaps  indicate  that  this  is  one  of  the  stories 
introduced  into  Europe  by  the  Mongolians. 

The  Arabian  tale  of  Prince  Ahmed  and  the  Peri 
Band  is  a familiar  variant : Three  princes  are  in  love 
with  their  cousin,  who  is  to  be  given  to  him  that  should 
bring  the  most  wonderful  thing.  One  obtains  a magic 
carpet ; another  an  ivory  telescope ; and  the  third  an 
apple  which  could  cure  the  person  who  smelt  at  it, 
even  if  at  the  very  point  of  death.  The  youth  with  the 
telescope  discovers  that  the  princess  is  dying;  the 


THE  FOUR  CLEVER  BROTHERS. 


285 


magic  carpet  carries  all  three  from  a distant  country  to 
the  chamber  of  the  lady ; and  the  apple  restores  her  to 
health. — ^With  this  the  first  part  of  the  story  of  the 
Three  Princes,  in  Powell  and  Magnussen’s  ‘ Icelandic 
Legends’  (pp.  348-354),  exactly  corresponds,  excepting 
that  the  apple,  instead  of  being  smelt  at,  is  put  in  the 
arm-pit  of  the  sick  person.  And,  to  go  to  the  other 
extremity  of  Europe,  we  have  also  a parallel  in 
Von  Hahn’s  ‘ Neugriechische  Marchen  ’ : Three  young 
men  love  the  same  girl;  and  in  order  to  settle  the 
question,  which  of  them  shall  marry  her,  they  agree 
to  go  away  and  return  at  a certain  time,  when  which- 
ever shall  have  learned  the  best  craft  shall  have  the 
girl.  They  all  return  after  three  years’  absence.  One 
is  a renowned  astronomer;  the  second  can  raise  the 
dead ; and  the  third  can  run  quicker  than  the  air,  and 
be  in  a moment  wherever  he  wishes.  When  they  have 
all  met,  the  astronomer  looks  at  the  girl’s  star,  and 
knows  from  its  trembling  that  she  is  at  the  point  of 
death.  The  physician — he  who  can  raise  the  dead — 
prepares  a medicine  for  the  girl’s  recovery.  The  third 
runs  off  with  the  remedy,  and  by  pouring  it  down  her 
throat  saves  her  life : her  soul,  which  was  at  her  teeth 
ready  to  depart,  went  down  again.^ 

We  have  probably  the  original  of  all  these  different 
versions  in  the  fifth  of  the  ' Vetalapanchavinsati  ’ 
(Twenty -five  Tales  of  a Demon — see  note,  p.  82), 

^ ‘ Contes  Populaires  Grecs,’  par  J.  G.  Von  Hahn,  ddit^es  par  H. 
Pio  : Athens  et  Copenhagen,  1879.  No.  II.  p.  98. 


286 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


where  we  read  that  a certain  king’s  minister,  named 
Harisvamin,  had  an  excellent  son,  and  also  a beautiful 
daughter,  who  was  rightly  named  Somaprabha,  or 
Moonlight.  This  damsel  made  her  mother  give  the 
following  message  to  her  father  and  her  brother : 
'‘I  shall  be  married  to  a man  possessed  of  heroism, 
or  knowledge,  or  magic  power ; you  must  not  give 
me  in  marriage  to  any  other,  if  you  value  my  life.” 
Harisvamin  was  looking  for  a person  possessed  of  one 
of  these  qualifications  when  the  king  despatched  him 
on  state  business  into  the  Dekkan,  and  while  there  a 
Brahman,  who  had  heard  of  the  great  beauty  of  Soma- 
prabha, came  to  him  and  sought  her  hand.  Harisva- 
min informed  him  of  the  three  qualifications,  one  of 
which  his  daughter  had  resolved  her  husband  must 
possess,  and  the  suitor  replied  that  he  had  the  power 
to  construct  a magic  chariot  that  could  fly  in  the  air, 
and  having  convinced  Harisvamin  of  this,  he  promised 
Somaprabha  to  him,  fixing  the  marriage  for  the  seventh 
day  from  that  time.  Meanwhile  his  son  had  promised 
his  sister  to  another  Brahman,  who  had  satisfied  him 
that  he  possessed  wonderful  skill  in  the  use  of  missiles 
and  hand-to-hand  weapons,  and,  by  advice  of  the 
astrologers,  appointed  the  very  same  seventh  day  for 
the  marriage.  And  at  the  same  time  his  mother,  who 
knew  nothing  of  the  engagement  her  son  had  entered 
into,  gave  her  promise  to  a third  person,  who  possessed 
supernatural  knowledge,  that  Somaprabha  should  be 
given  to  him  in  marriage  on  the  same  seventh  day. — 
When  Harisvamin  came  home,  and  told  his  wife  and 


THE  FOUR  CLEVER  BROTHERS. 


287 


his  son  that  he  had  promised  Somaprabha  to  a noble 
Brahman  in  the  Dekkan,  and  was  informed  by  them 
of  the  engagements  they  had  also  made  unknown  to 
each  other,  his  mind  was  filled  with  anxiety,  and  he 
knew  not  what  course  to  pursue  in  such  perplexing 
circumstances.  On  the  wedding-day  the  three  bride- 
grooms arrived — the  man  of  knowledge,  the  man  of 
magic  power,  and  the  man  of  valour ; and  just  then  it 
was  discovered  that  Somaprabha  had  mysteriously 
disappeared.  Man  of  knowledge,”  said  Harisvamin, 
tell  me  where  my  daughter  has  gone.”  He  replied 
that  a rakshasa  had  carried  her  off  to  his  habitation 
in  the  Vindhya  forest.  On  hearing  this  the  father 
exclaimed,  Alas ! how  are  we  to  recover  her  ? ” 
The  man  of  magic  power  said,  “ Be  of  good  cheer ; 
I will  take  you  in  a moment  to  the  place  where 
the  possessor  of  knowledge  says  she  is ; ” saying 
which,  he  prepared  a chariot  that  could  fly  in  the 
air,  provided  with  all  kinds  of  weapons,  and  made 
Harisvamin,  the  man  of  knowledge,  and  the  brave  man 
get  into  it,  and  in  a moment  he  carried  them  to  the 
habitation  of  the  rakshasa,  who,  on  seeing  them, 
rushed  out  in  a rage,  when  the  hero  challenged 
him  to  fight.  And  in  a short  time  the  hero  cut  off 
the  head  of  the  rakshasa,  after  which  they  carried 
off  Somaprabha  and  returned  in  the  magic  chariot. 
When  they  reached  Harisvamin’s  house  a dispute 
arose  between  the  man  of  knowledge,  the  man  of 
magic  power,  and  the  man  of  valour,  and  while  they 
were  wrangling,  each  claiming  Somaprabha  because 


288 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


of  the  share  he  had  in  her  recovery,  Haris vamin  re-"" 
mained  silent,  perplexed  in  mind. 

It  is  worthy  of  note  that  in  this  last,  and  oldest, 
form  of  the  story,  and  also  in  the  ‘Tiiti  Hama’  version, 
the  damsel  is  not  represented  as  being  ill,  as  in  the 
' Sindibad  Hama  ’ and  the  Arabian  versions.  Accord- 
ing to  Professor  Tawney,  the  47th  tale  of  the  ' Pen- 
tamerone  ’ of  Basile  and  “ Das  Weise  Urtheil  in 
Waldau’s  'Bohmische  Marchen’  closely  resemble  the 
Arabian  story.  Whence  the  Italian  novelist  obtained 
it  we  cannot  say ; but  Galland’s  French  translation  of 
the  'Thousand  and  One  Mghts,’  through  which  that 
work  first  became  known  in  Europe,  was  not  published 
till  many  years  after  the  ' Pentamerone  ’ was  printed. 
The  story  may  have  come  into  Italy  with  Venetian 
merchants  trading  in  the  Levant. 


289 


CUMULATIVE  STORIES. 

^ISTE  should  scarcely  conceive  that  our  prime  nursery 
^ favourites  the  “House  that  Jack  built’’  and  the 
“Old  Woman  and  the  Crooked  Sixpence”  have  their 
prototype  in  a sacred  hymn  in  the  Hebrew  Talmud ! 
Yet  such  is  the  case,  and  in  order  to  show  this,  I must 
here  reproduce  the  first-mentioned  “ story  ” : 

1 This  is  the  House  that  Jack  built. 

2 This  is  the  Malt 

That  lay  in  the  House  that  Jack  built. 

3 This  is  the  Eat, 

That  ate  the  Malt, 

That  lay  in  the  House  that  Jack  built. 

4 This  is  the  Cat, 

That  killed  the  Eat, 

That  ate  the  Malt, 

That  lay  in  the  House  that  Jack  built. 

5 This  is  the  Dog, 

That  worried  the  Cat, 

That  killed  the  Eat, 

That  ate  the  Malt, 

That  lay  in  the  House  that  Jack  built. 


VOL.  I. 


T 


290 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


6 This  is  the  Cow  with  the  crumpled  horn, 

That  tossed  the  Dog, 

That  worried  the  Cat, 

That  killed  the  Eat, 

That  ate  the  Malt, 

That  lay  in  the  House  that  Jack  built. 

7 This  is  the  Maiden,  all  forlorn. 

That  milked  the  Cow  with  the  crumpled  horn. 
That  tossed  the  Dog, 

That  worried  the  Cat, 

That  killed  the  Eat, 

That  ate  the  Malt, 

That  lay  in  the  House  that  Jack  built. 

8 This  is  the  Man,  all  tattered  and  torn. 

That  kissed  the  Maiden,,  all  forlorn. 

That  milked  the  Cow  with  the  crumpled  horn, 
That  tossed  the  Dog, 

That  worried  the  Cat, 

That  killed  the  Eat, 

That  ate  the  Malt, 

That  lay  in  the  House  that  Jack  built. 

9 This  is  the  Priest,  all  shaven  and  shorn. 

That  married  the  Man,  all  tattered  and  torn. 
That  kissed  the  Maiden,  all  forlorn. 

That  milked  the  Cow  with  the  crumpled  horn. 
That  tossed  the  Dog, 

That  worried  the  Cat, 

That  killed  the  Eat, 

That  ate  the  Malt, 

That  lay  in  the  House  that  Jack  built. 

10  This  is  the  Cock,  that  cried  in  the  morn. 

That  woke  the  Priest,  all  shaven  and  shorn, 
That  married  the  Man,  all  tattered  and  torn. 
That  kissed  the  Maiden,  all  forlorn. 

That  milked  the  Cow  with  the  crumpled  horn. 


CUMULATIVE  STOKIES. 


291 


That  tossed  the  Dog, 

That  worried  the  Cat, 

That  killed  the  Eat, 

That  ate  the  Malt, 

That  lay  in  the  House  that  Jack  built. 

1 1 And  this  is  the  Farmer,  sowing  his  corn. 

That  kept  the  Cock,  that  cried  in  the  morn, 

That  waked  the  Priest,  all  shaven  and  shorn. 

That  married  the  Man,  all  tattered  and  torn. 

That  kissed  the  Maiden,  all  forlorn, 

That  milked  the  Cow  with  the  crumpled  horn, 

That  tossed  the  Dog, 

That  worried  the  Cat, 

That  killed  the  Eat, 

That  ate  the  Malt, 

That  lay  in  the  House  that  J ack  built ! 

The  following  is  a translation  of  a mystical  hymn  in 
the  “ Sepher  Haggadah  ” of  the  Talmud : 

1 A kid,  a kid,  my  father  bought 
For  two  pieces  of  money ; 

A kid,  a kid. 

2 Then  came  the  cat,  and  ate  the  kid 
That  my  father  bought 

For  two  pieces  of  money ; 

A kid,  a kid. 

3 Then  came  the  dog,  and  bit  the  cat. 

That  ate  the  kid. 

That  my  father  bought 
For  two  pieces  of  money ; 

A kid,  a kid. 

4 Then  came  the  staff,  and  beat  the  dog. 

That  bit  the  cat. 


292 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


That  ate  the  kid, 

That  my  father  bought 
For  two  pieces  of  money ; 

A kid,  a kid. 

5 Then  came  the  fire,  and  burned  the  staff. 
That  beat  the  dog. 

That  bit  the  cat. 

That  ate  the  kid, 

That  my  father  bought 
For  two  pieces  of  money  ; 

A kid,  a kid. 

6 Then  came  the  water,  and  quenched  the  fire. 
That  burned  the  staff. 

That  beat  the  dog. 

That  bit  the  cat. 

That  ate  the  kid, 

That  my  father  bought 
For  two  pieces  of  money ; 

A kid,  a kid. 

7 Then  came  the  ox,  and  drank  the  water. 
That  quenched  the  fire, 

That  burned  the  staff. 

That  beat  the  dog. 

That  bit  the  cat, 

That  ate  the  kid. 

That  my  father  bought 
For  two  pieces  of  money ; 

A kid,  a kid. 

8 Then  came  the  butcher,  and  slew  the  ox. 
That  drank  the  water. 

That  quenched  the  fire. 

That  burned  the  staff. 

That  beat  the  dog. 

That  bit  the  cat, 


CUMULATIVE  STORIES. 


293 


That  ate  the  kid, 

That  my  father  bought 
For  two  pieces  of  money ; 

A kid,  a kid. 

9 Then  came  the  Angel  of  Death,  and  killed  the  butcher. 
That  slew  the  ox, 

That  drank  the  water, 

That  quenched  the  fire. 

That  burned  the  staff. 

That  beat  the  dog, 

That  bit  the  cat. 

That  ate  the  kid. 

That  my  father  bought 
For  two  pieces  of  money ; 

A kid,  a kid. 

10  Then  came  the  Holy  One,  blessed  be  He  ! and 

killed  the  Angel  of  Death, 

That  killed  the  butcher. 

That  slew  the  ox, 

That  drank  the  water. 

That  quenched  the  fire, 

That  burned  the  staff, 

That  beat  the  dog. 

That  bit  the  cat. 

That  ate  the  kid. 

That  my  father  bought 
For  two  pieces  of  money ; 

A kid,  a kid. 

This  is  the  historical  interpretation  of  the  above 
curiosity  of  rabbinical  literature,  given  by  P.  N. 
Leberecht,  at  Leipzic,  in  1731 : 

1.  The  hid,  which  was  one  of  the  pure  animals, 
denotes  the  Hebrews ; the  father,  by  whom  it  was 
purchased,  is  Jehovah,  who  represents  himself  as 


294 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


sustaining  this  relation  to  the  Jewish  nation;  the 
two  pieces  of  money  signify  Moses  and  Aaron,  through 
whose  mediation  the  Hebrews  were  brought  out  of 
Egypt. 

2.  The  cat  denotes  the  Assyrians,  by  whom  the  ten 
tribes  were  carried  into  captivity. 

3.  The  dog  is  symbolical  of  the  Babylonians. 

4.  The  staff  signifies  the  Persians. 

5.  The  fire  indicates  the  Greek  Empire  under  Alex- 
ander the  Great. 

6.  The  water  betokens  the  Eomans — as  the  fourth 
of  the  great  monarchies  to  whose  dominion  the  J ews 
were  subjected. 

7.  The  ox  is  a symbol  of  the  Saracens,  who  subdued 
Palestine,  and  brought  it  under  the  Khalifat. 

8.  The  huteher  that  killed  the  ox  denotes  the  Cru- 
saders, by  whom  the  Holy  Land  was  wrested  out  of  the 
hands  of  the  Saracens. 

9.  The  Angel  of  Death  signifies  the  Turkish  power, 
by  which  the  land  of  Palestine  was  taken  from  the 
Franks,  and  to  which  it  is  still  subject. 

10.  The  commencement  of  this  tenth  stanza  is 
designed  to  show  that  God  will  take  signal  vengeance 
on  the  Turks,  immediately  after  whose  overthrow  the 
Jews  are  to  be  restored  to  their  own  land,  and  live 
under  the  government  of  their  long-expected  Messiah. 

The  stick,  fire,  water,  and  butcher  of  the  Hebrew 
hymn  play  their  parts  in  the  story  of  the  Old  Woman 
and  the  Crooked  Sixpence : 


CUMULATIVE  STOEIES. 


295 


An  old  woman  was  sweeping  her  house  and  she 
found  a little  crooked  sixpence.  ''What/’  said  she, 
" shall  I do  with  this  little  sixpence  ? I will  go  to 
market  and  buy  a little  pig.”  As  she  was  coming 
home,  she  came  to  a stile,  but  piggy  would  not  go  over 
the  stile. 

She  went  a little  farther,  and  she  met  with  a dog. 
So  she  said  to  the  dog,  " Dog ! dog ! bite  pig ; piggy 
won’t  go  over  the  stile,  and  I shan’t  get  home  to-night.” 
But  the  dog  would  not. 

She  went  a little  farther,  and  she  met  a stick.  So 
she  said,  " Stick  ! stick ! beat  dog ; dog  won’t  bite  pig ; 
piggy  won’t  go  over  the  stile,  and  I shan’t  get  home 
to-night.”  But  the  stick  would  not. 

She  went  a little  farther,  and  she  met  a fire.  So 
she  said,  "Fire!  fire!  burn  stick;  stick  won’t  beat 
dog ; dog  won’t  bite  pig  ” {and  so  on,  always  repeating 
the  foregoing  words).  But  the  fire  would  not. 

She  went  a little  farther,  and  she  met  some  water. 
So  she  said,  "Water!  water!  quench  fire;  fire  won’t 
burn  stick,”  etc.  But  the  water  would  not. 

She  went  a little  farther,  and  she  met  an  ox.  So 
she  said,  " Ox  ! ox  ! drink  water ; water  won’t  quench 
fire,”  etc.  But  the  ox  would  not. 

She  went  a little  farther,  and  she  met  a butcher. 
So  she  said,  " Butcher ! butcher ! kill  ox  ; ox  won’t 
drink  water,”  etc.  But  the  butcher  would  not. 

She  went  a little  farther,  and  she  met  a rope.  So 
she  said,  " Eope  ! rope ! hang  butcher ; butcher  won’t 
kill  ox,”  etc.  But  the  rope  would  not. 


296 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


She  went  a little  farther,  and  she  met  a rat.  So  she 
said,  ''  Eat ! rat ! gnaw  rope ; rope  won’t  hang  butcher,” 
etc.  But  the  rat  would  not. 

She  went  a little  farther,  and  she  met  a cat.  So  she 
said,  ''  Cat ! cat ! kill  rat ; rat  won’t  gnaw  rope,”  etc. 
But  the  cat  said,  ''  If  you  will  go  to  yonder  cow  and 
fetch  me  a saucer  of  milk,  I will  kill  the  rat.”  So  away 
went  the  old  woman  to  the  cow. 

And  the  cow  said  to  her,  If  you  will  go  to  yonder 
haycock,  and  fetch  me  a handful  of  hay.  I’ll  give  you 
milk.”  So  away  the  old  woman  went  to  the  haycock, 
and  she  brought  hay  to  the  cow.  And  as  soon  as  the 
cow  had  eaten  the  hay,  she  gave  the  old  woman  milk, 
and  away  the  old  woman  went  with  it  in  a saucer  to 
the  cat. 

And  as  soon  as  the  cat  had  lapped  up  the  milk,  the 
cat  began  to  kill  the  rat,  the  rat  began  to  gnaw  the 
rope,  the  rope  began  to  hang  the  butcher,  the  butcher 
began  to  kill  the  ox,  the  ox  began  to  drink  the  water, 
the  water  began  to  quench  the  fire,  the  fire  began  to 
burn  the  stick,  the  stick  began  to  beat  the  dog,  the 
dog  began  to  bite  the  pig,  the  little  pig  in  a fright 
jumped  over  the  stile,  and  so  the  old  woman  got  home 
that  night.^ 

^ The  Scotch  version,  entitled  the  Wife  and  her  Bush  of  Berries, 
agrees  very  closely  with  this  favourite  English  nursery  tale — see 
Chambers’  ‘ Popular  Rhymes  of  Scotland.  ’ An  Aberdeenshire  vari- 
ant, “ The  Wifie  and  her  Kidie,”  is  given  by  the  Rev.  Walter  Gregor 
in  the  ^ Folk-Lore  Journal,’  vol.  ii.  pp.  277,  278. 


CUMULATIVE  STORIES. 


297 


Another  of  our  English  cumulative  stories  is  one 
beginning — 

John  Ball  shot  them  all, 

John  Scott  made  the  shot, 

But  John  Ball  shot  them  all. 

We  need  not,  however,  parade  Mr  Ball  and  his  num- 
erous coadjutors,  but  shall  proceed  to  cite  similar 
stories  from  other  languages.  Mr  Campbell,  in  his 
‘ Popular  Tales  of  the  West  Highlands,’  gives  the 
cumulative  story  of  a couple  named  Moorachug  and 
Menachaig,  who  went  one  day  to  gather  fruit,  but  as 
fast  as  the  man  gathered  his  wife  ate — his  share  as 
well  as  her  own ; so  he  went  to  a rod,  and  asked  it  to 
beat  Menachaig  for  eating  his  share  of  the  fruit,  but 
the  rod  told  him  he  must  get  an  axe  to  dress  it ; so  he 
went  to  the  axe,  but  the  axe  told  him  he  must  get  a 
stone  to  smooth  it ; so  he  went  to  a stone,  but  he  must 
have  water  to  wet  it ; so  he  went  to  the  water,  but  he 
must  first  get  a deer  to  swim  it ; so  he  went  to  the 
deer,  but  the  deer  says  he  must  first  get  a dog  to  run 
him ; so  he  went  to  the  dog,  but  the  dog  says  he  must 
first  have  his  feet  rubbed  with  butter ; so  he  went  to 
the  butter,  but  he  must  first  get  a mouse  to  scrape  it ; 
so  he  went  to  the  mouse,  but  he  must  first  get  a cat  to 
hunt  him ; so  he  went  to  the  cat,  but  the  cat  must  first 
get  milk ; so  he  went  to  the  cow,  but  the  cow  must 
first  get  a wisp  of  hay  from  the  barn-gillie ; so  he  went 
to  the  barn-gillie,  but  he  must  first  get  a bannock  from 
the  baking-woman ; so  he  went  to  the  baking- woman. 


298 


POPULAK  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


but  she  must  have  some  water.  ''  How  shall  I bring 
the  water  ? ” ''  There’s  nothing  but  the  sowens-sieve,” 

says  the  woman.  But  every  drop  of  water  he  puts  in 
it  goes  through.  An  old  woman  tells  him  to  put  in 
clay  and  moss,  and  so  he  brought  in  the  water  to  the 
baking- woman,  and  he  got  a bannock  for  the  barn-gillie 
— a wisp  of  hay  from  the  barn-gillie  for  the  cow — milk 
from  the  cow  for  the  cat then  the  cat  began  to  hunt 
the  mouse — the  mouse  to  scrape  the  butter — the  but- 
ter to  rub  the  dog’s  feet — the  dog  to  hunt  the  deer — the 
deer  to  swim  the  water — the  water  to  wet  the  stone — 
the  stone  to  smooth  the  axe — the  axe  to  dress  the  rod 
— the  rod  to  beat  Menachaig,  and  she  eating  his  share 
of  the  fruit.  But  when  Moorachug  returned  to  Men- 
achaig, she  had  just  hurst! 

Such  ''accumulative”  stories  as  these  seem  to  be 
current  in  almost  all  countries.  In  Pitre’s  Sicilian 
collection  we  find  a parallel  to  our  Old  Woman  and 
the  Crooked  Sixpence : Once  upon  a time  there  was 
a mother  who  had  a daughter  named  Pitidda.  She 
said  to  her,  " Go  sweep  the  house.”  " Give  me  some 
bread  first.”  " I cannot,”  she  answered.  When  her 
mother  saw  that  she  would  not  sweep  the  house,  she 
called  to  the  wolf,  saying,  "Wolf,  go  kill  Pitidda,  for 
Pitidda  will  not  sweep  the  house.”  " I can’t,”  said  the 
wolf.  " Dog,  go  kill  wolf,”  said  the  mother ; " for  the 
wolf  will  not  kill  Pitidda,  for  Pitidda  won’t  sweep  the 
house.”  " I can’t,”  said  the  dog.  " Stick,  go  beat  dog,” 
and  so  on.  Pire  to  burn  stick ; water  to  quench  fire  ; 


CUMULATIVE  STORIES. 


299 


cow  to  drink  water ; rope  to  choke  cow ; mouse  to 
gnaw  rope;  and  cat  to  eat  mouse,  and  so  on.  — In 
another  Sicilian  variant,  entitled  the  Sexton’s  Nose, 
the  dog  who  has  bitten  his  nose  refuses  a hair  to  heal 
it  without  getting  some  bread ; so  the  sexton  goes  to 
the  baker  and  asks  for  some  bread,  but  the  baker  must 
first  get  some  wood ; so  he  goes  to  the  woodman,  who 
must  get  a mattock ; to  the  smith,  who  wants  coals ; 
to  the  collier,  who  must  first  get  a cart ; to  the  waggon- 
maker,  who  gives  him  a cart,  which  the  sexton  gives 
to  the  collier,  who  gives  him  coals,  which  he  gives  to 
the  smith,  who  gives  him  a mattock,  which  he  gives  to 
the  woodman,  who  gives  him  some  faggots,  which  he 
gives  to  the  baker,  who  gives  him  bread,  which  he 
gives  to  the  dog,  who  at  length  gives  the  sexton  a 
hair,  which  he  applies  to  his  nose,  and  the  wound  is 
cured.i 

Traces  of  the  Hebrew  hymn  are  also  found  in  the 
Norse  story.  How  they  brought  Hairlock  home:  A 
certain  dame  had  three  sons — Peter,  Paul,  and  Osborn 
Boots — also  a nanny-goat,  called  Hairlock.  Boots  sets 
out  to  fetch  the  nanny-goat  home — sees  her  high  up 
on  a crag — calls  to  her  to  come  home,  but  Hairlock 
wouldn’t.  He  tells  his  mother,  who  says,  Go  to  the 
fox,  and  bid  him  bite  Hairlock.”  But  the  fox  wouldn’t 
blunt  his  snout  on  a goat’s  beard.  His  mother  then 
sends  him  to  ask  Greylegs  the  wolf  to  tear  the  fox ; 
but  he  wouldn’t.  To  the  bear,  to  slay  Greylegs ; but 
^ Crane’s  ‘ Italian  Popular  Tales,’  pp.  250-252. 


300 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


the  bear  wouldn’t.  To  the  Finn,  to  shoot  bear ; but  the 
Finn  wouldn’t.  To  the  fir-tree,  to  fall  on  the  Finn ; but 
the  fir-tree  wouldn’t.  To  the  fire,  to  burn  fir-tree ; but 
the  fire  wouldn’t.  To  the  water,  to  quench  fire ; but  the 
water  wouldn’t.  To  the  ox,  to  drink  up  water ; but  the 
ox  wouldn’t.  To  the  yoke,  to  pinch  ox ; but  the  yoke 
wouldn’t.  To  the  axe,  to  chop  yoke;  but  the  axe 
wouldn’t.  To  the  smith,  to  hammer  the  axe ; but  the 
smith  wouldn’t.  To  the  rope,  to  hang  smith  ; but  the 
rope  wouldn’t.  To  the  mouse,  to  gnaw  rope ; but  the 
mouse  wouldn’t.  To  the  cat,  to  catch  mouse.  Well,” 
said  the  cat,  ''just  give  me  a drop  of  milk  for  my 

kittens,  and  then” That’s  what  the  cat  said,  and 

the  lad  said  she  should  have  it.  So  the  cat  bit  the 
mouse,  and  the  mouse  gnawed  the  rope,  and  the  rope 
hanged  the  smith,  and  the  smith  hammered  the  axe, 
and  the  axe  chopped  the  yoke,  and  the  yoke  pinched 
the  ox,  and  the  ox  drank  the  water,  and  the  water 
quenched  the  fire,  and  the  fire  burned  the  fir-tree, 
and  the  fir-tree  felled  the  Finn,  and  the  Finn  shot  the 
bear,  and  the  bear  slew  Greylegs  the  wolf,  and  Grey- 
legs  the  wolf  tore  the  fox,  and  the  fox  bit  Hairlock, 
so  that  she  sprang  home  and  knocked  off  one  of  her 
hind  legs  against  the  barn  wall.  So  there  lay  nanny- 
goat,  and  if  she’s  not  dead,  she  limps  about  on  three 
legs.^ 

Another  amusing  Norse  story  of  the  same  class, 
entitled  the  Cock  and  Hen  a-nutting,  closely  resem- 

1 Abridged  from  the  version  in  Dasent’s  ‘ Tales  from  the  Fjeld.’ 


CUMULATIVE  STORIES. 


301 


bles  the  Sexton’s  Nose,  already  cited : Once  on  a 
time  the  cock  and  the  hen  went  into  the  hazel-wood 
to  pick  nuts ; and  the  hen  got  a nut-shell  in  her  throat, 
and  lay  on  her  back,  flapping  her  wings.  Off  went  the 
cock  to  fetch  water  for  her ; so  he  came  to  the  spring, 
and  said,  ''  Dear  good  friend  spring,  give  me  a drop  of 
water,  that  I may  give  it  to  Dame  Partlet  my  mate, 
who  lies  at  death’s  door  in  the  hazel-wood.”  But  the 
spring  answered,  ''  You’ll  get  no  water  from  me  till  I 
get  leaves  from  you.”  So  the  cock  went  to  the  linden, 
and  said,  ''  Dear  good  friend  linden,  give  me  some  of 
your  leaves ; the  leaves  I’ll  give  to  the  spring,  and  the 
spring  will  give  me  water,  to  give  to  Dame  Partlet  my 
mate,  who  lies  at  death’s  door  in  the  hazel-wood.” 
“ You’ll  get  no  leaves  from  me,”  said  the  linden,  until 
I get  a red  ribbon  with  a golden  edge  from  you.”  So 
the  cock  ran  to  the  Virgin  Mary,  and  said,  “ Dear  good 
Virgin  Mary,  give  me  a red  ribbon  with  a golden  edge, 
and  I’ll  give  it  to  the  linden,  and  the  linden  will  give 
me  leaves,”  etc.  “ You’ll  get  no  red  ribbon  from  me,” 
said  the  Virgin  Mary,  until  I get  shoes  from  you.” 
So  the  cock  went  to  the  shoemaker,  but  he  must  first 
get  some  bristles ; to  the  sow,  but  she  must  first  get 
some  corn;  to  the  thresher,  but  he  must  first  get  a 
bannock;  to  the  baker’s  wife,  but  she  must  first  get 
wood ; to  the  wood-cutter,  but  he  must  first  get  an  axe ; 
to  the  smith,  but  he  must  first  get  charcoal;  to  the 
charcoal-burner,  who  took  pity  on  the  cock,  and  gave 
him  a bit  of  charcoal,  and  then  the  smith  got  his  coal, 
and  the  wood-cutter  his  axe,  and  the  baker’s  wife  her 


302 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


wood,  and  the  thresher  his  bannock,  and  the  sow  her 
corn,  and  the  shoemaker  his  bristles,  and  the  Virgin 
Mary  her  shoes,  and  the  linden  its  red  ribbon  with  a 
golden  edge,  and  the  spring  its  leaves,  and  the  cock  his 
drop  of  water,  and  he  gave  it  to  Dame  Partlet  his 
mate,  wlfb  lay  there  at  death’s  door  in  the  hazel-wood 
— and  so  she  got  all  right  again.^ 

In  a third  Norwegian  cumulative  story,  the  Death 
of  Chanticleer,  we  find  a very  interesting  analogue  of 
one  that  is  current  at  the  present  day  among  the  chil- 
dren of  the  Panjab  and  Kashmir.  A cock  fell  one 
day  into  the  brewing- vat  of  Yule  ale  and  was  drowned. 
His  wife.  Dame  Partlet,  when  she  saw  this,  lost  her 
wits  and  flew  about  distracted,  screaming  and  screech- 
ing. ''  What  ails  you  ? ” said  the  hand-quern.  Good- 
man Chanticleer,”  said  the  hen,  “ has  fallen  into  the  ale- 
vat  and  drowned  himself ; that’s  why  I am  screaming 
and  screeching,  that’s  why  I am  sobbing  and  sighing.” 
‘‘Well,”  said  the  hand-quern,  “if  I can  do  nothing  else 
I will  grind  and  groan ; ” so  it  fell  to  grinding  as  fast 
as  it  could.  When  the  chair  heard  this,  it  said, 
“ What  ails  you,  hand-quern,  that  you  grind  and  groan 
so  much  ? ” “ Why  not  ? ” said  the  hand-quern ; “ when 
goodman  Chanticleer  has  fallen  into  the  cask  and 
drowned  himself,  and  Dame  Partlet  sits  in  the  ingle 
and  sobs  and  sighs : that’s  why  I grind  and  groan,” 
said  the  hand-quern.  “ If  I can  do  naught  else,”  said  the 

^ See  Dasent’s  ‘ Popular  Tales  from  the  Norse,’  p.  437 ; and  Thorpe’s 
Yule-Tide  Stories’  (Bohn’s  ed.),  p.  333. 


CUMULATIVE  STORIES. 


303 


chair,  I will  crack,”  and  with  that  the  chair  fell  to 
creaking  and  cracking.  When  the  door  heard  this  it 
said  to  the  chair,  “ What’s  the  matter  with  you,  that 
you  creak  and  crack  ? ” “ Why  not  ? ” said  the  chair ; 

since  goodman  Chanticleer  has  fallen  into  the  ale- vat 
and  drowned  himself,  and  Dame  Partlet  sobs  and 
sighs,  and  the  hand-quern  grinds  and  groans : that’s 
why  I creak  and  crack.”  “ If  I can  do  naught  else,”  said 
the  door,  ''I  can  rattle  and  bang,  and  whistle  and 
slam,”  so  it  began  to  open  and  shut,  and  slam  and 
bang.  When  the  stove  heard  this  it  began  to 
smoulder  and  smoke,  and  then  the  axe  began  to  rive 
and  rend  about,  and  the  aspen  began  to  quiver  and 
quake  in  all  its  leaves,  and  the  birds  began  to  pluck 
off  all  their  feathers ; and  then  the  master,  when  he  saw 
the  feathers  flying  about  like  fun,  and  learned  from  the 
birds  what  had  happened,  he  began  to  tear  brooms 
asunder ; and  the  goody,  his  wife,  stood  cooking  por- 
ridge for  supper,  and  seeing  all  this,  she  called  out, 
''  Why,  man,  what  are  you  tearing  all  the  brooms  to 
pieces  for  ? ” “ Oh,”  said  the  goodman,  “ Chanticleer 

has  fallen  into  the  ale-vat  and  been  drowned,  and  so 
the  Dame  Partlet  sobs  and  sighs,  and  the  hand-quern 
grinds  and  groans,  and  the  chair  creaks  and  cracks, 
and  the  door  slams  and  bangs,  and  the  stove 
smoulders  and  smokes,  and  the  axe  rives  and  rends, 
and  the  aspen  quivers  and  quakes,  and  the  birds  are 
pulling  out  all  their  feathers,  so  I am  tearing  the 
brooms  to  pieces.”  Then  the  goody  began  throwing 
the  porridge  against  the  walls ; and  that’s  how  they 


304 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


drank  the  burial-ale  after  goodman  Chanticleer,  who 
fell  into  the  brewing- vat  and  was  drowned.^ 

The  Panjabi  tale  of  the  Death  and  Burial  of  Poor 
Hen  - Sparrow  (Steel  and  Temple’s  ‘ Wide  - Awake 
Stories  ’)  is  clearly  own  brother  to  that  of  the  Death  of 
Chanticleer : 

In  days  of  yore  there  lived  a cock-sparrow  and  his 
wife,  who  were  both  growing  old.  But  the  cock-sparrow 
was  a gay  bird,  old  as  he  was,  and  cast  his  eyes  upon 
a lively  young  hen,  and  determined  to  marry  her. 
So  they  had  a grand  wedding,  but  the  old  hen  went 
out  and  sat  disconsolately  just  under  a crow’s  nest. 
While  she  was  there  it  began  to  rain,  and  the  water 
came  drip,  drip  on  to  her  feathers,  but  she  was  too  sad 
to  care.  Now  it  so  happened  that  the  crow  had  used 
some  scraps  of  dyed  cloth  in  its  nest,  and  when  they 
got  wet  the  colours  ran  and  went  drip,  drip  on  the  old 
sparrow,  till  she  was  as  gay  as  a peacock.  When  she 
flew  home,  the  new  wife  was  dreadfully  jealous  of  her 
old  co-wife,  and  asked  her  where  she  had  managed 
to  get  that  lovely  dress.  “ Easily  enough,”  she  replied  ; 

I just  went  into  the  dyer’s  vat.”  “ I’ll  go  too,” 
thought  the  new  wife ; I won’t  have  that  old  thing 
better  dressed  than  I am.”  So  she  flew  off  to  the 
dyer’s,  and  went  pop  into  the  middle  of  the  vat,  but 
it  was  scalding  hot,  and  she  was  half  dead  before  she 
could  manage  to  scramble  out.  Meanwhile  the  old 
cock,  not  finding  his  new  wife  at  home,  flew  off 
1 Dasent’s  ‘Tales  from  the  Fjeld,’  pp.  30-34. 


CUMULATIVE  STOEIES. 


305 


distracted  in  search  of  her,  and  wept  salt  tears  when 
he  found  her  half  drowned  and  half  scalded,  with  her 
feathers  away,  by  the  dyers  vat.  ''What  has  hap- 
pened ? he  asked,  and  she  replied : 

“ My  CO- wife  got  dyed, 

But  I fell  into  the  vat.” 

So  the  cock  took  her  up  tenderly  in  his  bill,  and  flew 
away  home  with  her.  Just  as  he  was  crossing  a 
big  river,  the  old  hen-sparrow  looked  out  of  the  nest, 
and  when  she  saw  her  husband  bringing  his  bride  home 
in  such  a sorry  plight,  she  burst  out  a-laughing  and 
said : 

“ One  is  vexed  and  one  is  grieved, 

And  one  laughing  is  carried  on  high.” 

At  this  the  husband  was  so  enraged  that  he  could 
not  hold  his  tongue,  but  shouted  out,  " Hush,  hush ! 
you  old  thing.”  Of  course,  when  he  opened  his 
mouth  to  speak  the  poor  draggled  bride  fell  plump 
into  the  river  and  was  drowned.^  Whereupon  the 
cock-sparrow  was  so  distracted  with  grief  that  he 
pecked  off  all  his  feathers  till  he  was  as  bare  as  a 
ploughed  field,  and  went  and  sat  quite  naked  on  a 
jpipal-ticQQ  and  wept.  Then  the  pipal-iYQQ  said  to 
him,  " What  has  happened  ? ” " Don’t  ask  me,”  said 
the  cock-sparrow.  " It  isn’t  decent  to  ask  questions 

^ This  incident  occurs  in  a great  number  of  folk-tales,  and  its  oldest 
form  is  probably  the  ‘ Jataka,’  or  Buddhist  Birth-Story,  of  the  Talk- 
ative Tortoise,  which,  with  other  variants — such  as  the  Indian  story 
of  the  Eools  and  the  Bull  of  Siva,  and  the  Eussian  story  of  the  Old 
Man  and  the  Cabbage-Stalk — will  be  found  in  my  ‘ Book  of  Noodles.’ 

VOL.  I. 


U 


306 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


when  folk  are  in  mourning.”  But  the  pipal-tic^Q 
would  not  be  satisfied,  so  at  last,  with  sobs  and  tears, 
the  poor  bereaved  sparrow  said : 

“ One  hen  painted, 

The  other  was  dyed, 

And  the  cock  loved  her.” 

Then  the  pipal-tree  was  overwhelmed  with  grief  too, 
and  shed  all  its  leaves  on  the  spot.  By -and -by  a 
buffalo  came,  and  asked  the  pipal-tree  how  it  had 
lost  all  its  leaves,  and  after  much  entreaty  it  answered  : 

“ One  hen  painted, 

The  other  was  dyed. 

And  the  cock  loved  her. 

So  the  pipal  shed  its  leaves.” 

On  hearing  this  the  buffalo  was  grieved,  and  shed  his 
horns  there  and  then.  After  a while  the  buffalo  went 
to  the  river  to  drink,  and  the  river  asked  him  how 
he  had  lost  his  grand  horns,  so  he  said : 

“ One  hen  painted. 

The  other  was  dyed. 

And  the  cock  loved  her. 

So  the  pipal  shed  its  leaves. 

And  the  buffalo  his  horns.” 

Then  the  river  wept  so  sore  that  it  became  quite  salt. 
By-and-by  a cuckoo  came  to  the  river,  and  finding 
it  salt,  asked  the  reason,  and  was  answered : 

One  hen  painted. 

The  other  was  dyed. 

And  the  cock  loved  her, 


CUMULATIVE  STORIES. 


307 


So  the  'pijpal  shed  its  leaves, 

And  the  buffalo  his  horns, 

So  the  river  became  salt.” 

Then  the  cuckoo  plucked  out  an  eye  from  actual 
sorrow,  and  went  and  sat  by  a tradesman’s  shop 
and  wept  bitterly.  The  tradesman  wanted  to  know 
the  cause  of  the  bird’s  grief,  and  learned  it  thus : 

“ One  hen  painted, 

The  other  was  dyed, 

And  the  cock  loved  her, 

So  the  ^i^al  shed  its  leaves. 

And  the  buffalo  his  horns, 

So  the  river  became  salt, 

And  the  cuckoo  lost  an  eye.” 

At  this  sad  news  the  tradesman  wailed  till  he  lost 
his  senses.  And  when  the  king’s  servant  came  into 
his  shop  he  gave  her  pepper  when  she  asked  for 
turmeric,  and  onion  when  she  asked  for  garlic,  and 
wheat  when  she  asked  for  pulse.  So  the  maiden 
asks  what  had  thus  distracted  him,  and  after  much 
persuasion  he  told  her: 

One  hen  painted. 

The  other  was  dyed. 

And  the  cock  loved  her. 

So  the  'pi^al  shed  its  leaves, 

And  the  buffalo  his  horns, 

So  the  river  became  salt. 

And  the  cuckoo  lost  an  eye, 

So  Bhagtu  went  mad.” 

Then  the  maid  went  into  the  palace,  saying  dreadful 
things,  because  of  her  sorrow,  and  the  queen  asking 
what  had  happened,  the  maid  told  her : 


308 


POPULAK  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


“ One  hen  painted, 

The  other  was  dyed, 

And  the  cock  loved  her, 

So  the  pipal  shed  its  leaves. 

And  the  buffalo  his  horns. 

So  the  river  became  salt. 

And  the  cuckoo  lost  an  eye. 

So  Bhagtu  went  mad, 

And  the  maid  took  to  swearing.” 

Then  the  queen  danced  till  out  of  breath,  and  her 
son  asked  the  reason: 

“ One  hen  painted. 

The  other  was  dyed, 

And  the  cock  loved  her, 

So  the  pijoal  shed  its  leaves. 

And  the  buffalo  his  horns. 

So  the  river  became  salt. 

And  the  cuckoo  lost  an  eye. 

So  Bhagtu  went  mad. 

And  the  maid  took  to  swearing. 

So  the  queen  took  to  dancing.” 

And  then  the  queen’s  son  became  so  deeply  grieved 
that  he  took  his  tambourine,  and  began  to  play  on  it, 
when  in  comes  the  king  himself  and  learns  all  about  it : 

One  hen  painted. 

The  other  was  dyed. 

And  the  cock  loved  her. 

So  the  'pi'pal  shed  its  leaves. 

And  the  buffalo  his  horns. 

So  the  river  became  salt. 

And  the  cuckoo  lost  an  eye. 

So  Bhagtu  went  mad, 

And  the  maid  took  to  swearing. 

So  the  queen  took  to  dancing. 

And  the  prince  took  to  drumming.” 


CUMULATIVE  STORIES. 


309 


When  the  king  hears  this  sad  story,  he  began  to  lay 
upon  the  zithar : 

“ One  hen  painted, 

The  other  was  dyed, 

And  the  cock  loved  her, 

So  the  pipal  shed  its  leaves. 

And  the  buffalo  his  horns. 

So  the  river  became  salt. 

And  the  cuckoo  lost  an  eye. 

So  Bhagtu  went  mad, 

And  the  maid  took  to  swearing. 

So  the  queen  took  to  dancing. 

And  the  prince  took  to  drumming. 

So  the  king  took  to  thrumming.”  ^ 

From  Madagascar  we  have  a singular  cumulative 
story,  which  is  well  w^orth  reproducing,  as  follows  : 
Once  upon  a time  Ibotity  went  and  climbed  a tree ; 
and  when  the  wind  blew  hard  the  tree  was  broken, 
whereupon  Ibotity  fell  and  broke  his  leg.  So  he  said, 
''  The  tree  is  indeed  strong,  for  it  can  break  the  leg  of 
Ibotity.”  Then  said  the  tree,  ''  I am  not  strong,  for  it 
is  the  wind  that  is  strong.”  Then  said  Ibotity,  The 
wind  it  is  which  is  strong;  for  the  wind  broke  the 
tree,  and  the  tree  broke  the  leg  of  Ibotity.”  ''  I am 
not  strong,”  said  the  wind;  ''for  if  I were  strong, 
should  I be  stopped  by  the  hill  ? ” "Ah,  it  is  the  hill 

^ A somewhat  similar  series  of  catastrophes  are  recounted  in  a 
Roumanian  folk-tale  ; Two  old  folks  have  a mouse  which,  to  their 
intense  sorrow,  is  scalded  to  death  in  boiling  milk  ; whereupon  a 
magpie  pulled  out  all  its  feathers  as  a sign  of  its  grief  ; an  empress 
on  hearing  the  news  fell  out  of  a balcony  and  was  killed  ; and  the 
emperor  her  husband  became  a monk  in  the  cloister  of  Lies  on 
the  other  side  of  Truth. 


310 


POPULAE  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


which  is  strong/'  said  Ibotity ; for  the  hill  stopped 
the  wind,  the  wind  broke  the  tree,  the  tree  broke  the 
leg  of  Ibotity.”  “ Nay,  I am  not  strong,”  said  the  hill ; 
''  for  if  I were  strong,  I should  not  be  burrowed  by  the 
mice.”  '‘Ah,  it  is  the  mouse  which  is  strong,”  said 
Ibotity;  "for  the  mouse  burrowed  into  the  hill,  the 
hill  stopped  the  wind,  the  wind  broke  the  tree,  and 
the  tree  broke  the  leg  of  Ibotity.”  " Nay,  I am  not 
strong,”  said  the  mouse ; " for  am  I strong  who  can  be 
killed  by  the  cat  ? ” " Ah,  it  is  the  cat  which  is 

strong,”  said  Ibotity;  "for  the  cat  killed  the  mouse, 
the  mouse  burrowed  into  the  hill,  the  hill  stopped  the 
wind,  the  wind  broke  the  tree,  and  the  tree  broke  the 
leg  of  Ibotity.”  " Nay,  I am  not  strong,”  said  the  cat ; 
"for  am  I strong  who  am  caught  by  the  rope  and 
cannot  escape  ? ” " Ah,  it  is  the  rope  which  is  strong,” 
said  Ibotity,  etc.  " Nay,  I am  not  strong,”  said  the 
rope ; " for  am  I strong  and  am  cut  by  the  iron  ? ” 
" Then  it  is  the  iron  which  is  strong,”  said  Ibotity,  etc. 
"Nay,  I am  not  strong,”  said  the  iron;  "for  am  I 
strong  which  am  softened  by  the  fire  ? ” " Ah,  it  is 
the  fire  which  is  strong,”  said  Ibotity,  etc.  “Nay, 
I am  not  strong,”  said  the  fire  ; " for  am  I strong 
and  am  put  out  by  water  ? ” " Ah,  it  is  the  water 

which  is  strong,”  said  Ibotity,  and  so  on.  But  it 
would  be  tedious  to  give  every  detail;  suffice  it  to 
say  that  the  greatest  power  is  shifted  successively 
from  the  water  to  the  canoe,  from  the  canoe  to  the 
rock,  from  the  rock  to  mankind,  from  mankind  to  the 
sorcerer,  from  the  sorcerer  to  the  tangdna  (poison 


CUMULATIVE  STOKIES. 


311 


ordeal),  and  from  the  tangSna  to  God ; the  last  and 
complete  paragraph  reading  thus : ''  Nay,  I am  not 
strong,”  said  the  tang6na,  ‘'for  God  overcomes  me.” 
“ Ah,  it  is  God  who  is  strong,”  said  Ibotity ; “ for  God 
overcame  tang6na,  tangSna  killed  the  sorcerer,  the 
sorcerer  overcame  man,  man  broke  the  rock,  the  rock 
broke  the  canoe,  the  canoe  crossed  the  water,  the  water 
quenched  the  fire,  the  fire  softened  the  iron,  the  iron 
cut  the  rope,  the  rope  caught  the  cat,  the  cat  killed 
the  mouse,  the  mouse  burrowed  into  the  hill,  the  hill 
stopped  the  wind,  the  wind  broke  the  tree,  and  the 
tree  broke  the  leg  of  Ibotity.”  So  Ibotity  and  all 
things  agreed  that  God  is  the  strongest  of  all,  and 
governs  all  things  in  this  world,  whether  in  heaven 
above,  or  on  the  earth  beneath,  or  underneath  the 
earth,  or  to  the  verge  of  the  sky;  for  God  will  bear 
rule  for  ever  and  ever.^ 

Lastly,  here  is  a Singalese  variant  of  our  Old 
Woman  and  the  Crooked  Sixpence,  from  the  first 
part  of  ‘The  Orientalist,’  vol.  ii.,  1885: 

Once  upon  a time  a bird  laid  two  eggs  in  a cleft 
between  two  large  stones.  Through  some  movement 
of  the  stones  this  cleft  became  closed  up,  and  the  bird 
could  not  gain  access  to  her  nest. 

So  she  begged  a mason  to  split  open  the  stones  again, 
in  order  that  she  might  get  to  her  eggs.  But  the  man 
would  not. 

1 ‘ Malagasy  Folk-Tales,’  by  the  Rev.  James  Sibree,  junior  : ‘ Folk- 
Lore  Journal’  (1884),  vol.  ii.  pp.  136-138. 


312 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


She  then  went  to  a wild  boar,  and  asked  him  to 
enter  the  paddy-field  and  eat  the  mason’s  corn,  because 
the  mason  would  not  split  open  the  stones,  and  she 
could  not  get  to  her  two  eggs.  But  the  wild  boar 
would  not. 

She  then  went  to  the  hunter,  and  asked  him  to  shoot 
the  wild  boar,  because  the  wild  boar  would  not  eat  the 
mason’s  paddy;  the  mason  would  not  split  open  the 
stones ; and  she  could  not  get  to  her  two  eggs.  But 
the  hunter  would  not. 

She  next  went  to  the  elephant,  and  begged  him  to 
kill  the  hunter,  because  the  hunter  would  not  shoot 
the  wild  boar ; the  wild  boar  would  not  eat  the  mason’s 
paddy ; the  mason  would  not  split  open  the  stones  ; 
and  she  could  not  get  to  her  two  eggs.  But  the  ele- 
phant would  not. 

She  then  went  to  the  katussd  (''  bloodsucker  ” lizard), 
and  asked  it  to  crawl  up  the  elephant’s  trunk  into  his 
brain,  because  the  elephant  would  not  kill  the  hunter ; 
the  hunter  would  not  shoot  the  wild  boar;  the  wild 
boar  would  not  eat  the  mason’s  paddy ; the  mason 
would  not  split  open  the  stones  ; and  she  could  not 
get  to  her  two  eggs.  But  the  katussd  would  not. 

She  then  asked  a jungle-hen  to  peck  and  kill  the 
katussd,  because  the  katiissd  would  not  crawl  up  the 
elephant’s  trunk;  the  elephant  would  not  kill  the 
hunter;  the  hunter  would  not  shoot  the  wild  boar; 
the  wild  boar  would  not  eat  the  mason’s  paddy ; the 
mason  would  not  split  open  the  two  stones ; and  she 
could  not  get  to  her  two  eggs.  But  the  hen  would  not. 


CUMULATIVE  STORIES. 


313 


She  then  went  to  a jackal,  and  begged  him  to  eat  the 
jungle-hen,  because  the  jungle-hen  would  not  peck 
the  katussd ; the  katussd  would  not  crawl  up  the 
elephant’s  trunk ; the  elephant  would  not  kill  the 
hunter;  the  hunter  would  not  shoot  the  wild  boar; 
the  wild  boar  would  not  eat  the  mason’s  paddy ; the 
mason  would  not  split  open  the  stones ; and  she  could 
not  get  to  her  two  eggs. 

And  the  jackal  was  too  glad  to  eat  the  jungle-hen  ; 
so  he  immediately  set  off  after  her:  and  the  jungle- 
hen  began  to  peck  the  katussd  ; and  the  katussd  began 
to  crawl  up  the  elephant’s  trunk ; and  the  elephant 
went  to  attack  the  hunter;  and  the  hunter  took  his 
bow  and  arrows  to  shoot  the  wild  boar  ; and  the  wild 
boar  began  to  eat  the  mason’s  paddy ; and  the  mason, 
seeing  the  turn  things  had  taken,  split  open  the  stones  ; 
and  so  the  bird  at  last  got  back  to  her  two  eggs. 

It  is  the  opinion  of  several  learned  continental 
scholars  that  the  Hebrew  mystical  hymn,  ''A  kid,  a 
kid,  my  father  bought,”  etc.,  is  a comparatively  modern 
interpolation  in  the  Talmud.  Be  this  as  it  may,  it  is 
very  probable  that  accumulative  rhymes  and  stories 
were  common  in  the  East,  long  before  the  rabbins 
first  reduced  their  traditionary  lore  to  writing  and 
loaded  it  with  their  own  fanciful  commentaries. 


314 


ALADDIN’S  WONDERFUL  LAMP: 

A Second  Chapter  on  the  Thankful  Beasts. 

rilO  most  general  readers  the  charming  tale  of  Aladdin 
and  his  Lamp,  as  related  in  our  common  English 
version  of  the  'Arabian  Nights’ — which  was  made,  early 
in  the  last  century,  from  Galland’s  selections,  rendered 
into  French — is  doubtless  a typical  Eastern  fiction. 
It  does  not,  however,  occur  in  any  known  Arabian 
text  of  ' The  Thousand  and  One  Nights  ’ {Elf  Laila  wa 
Laila),  although  the  chief  incidents  of  the  tale  are 
found  in  many  Asiatic  fictions,  and  it  had  become 
orally  current  in  Greece  and  Italy  before  it  was  pub- 
lished by  Galland.  A popular  Italian  version,  which 
presents  a close  analogy  to  the  familiar  story  of 
Aladdin  (properly  ' Ala-’u-’d-Dm,  signifying,  " exalta- 
tion of  the  Faith  ”),  is  given  by  Miss  M.  H.  Busk  in 
her  'Folk-Lore  of  Eome,’  under  the  title  of  "How 
Cajusse  was  married,”  of  which  the  following  is  an 
abstract : 

A good-natured-looking  old  man  one  day  knocks  at 
the  door  of  a poor  tailor  out  of  work ; his  son  opens 


ALADDIN’S  WONDERFUL  LAMP. 


315 


the  door,  and  is  told  by  the  old  man  that  he  is  his 
uncle,  and  he  gives  the  lad  a piastre  to  buy  a good 
dinner.  When  the  tailor  comes  home — for  he  was 
absent  at  the  time — he  is  surprised  to  hear  the  old 
man  claim  him  as  a brother ; but  finding  him  so  rich, 
he  won’t  dispute  the  matter.  After  the  good  old  man 
had  lived  some  time  with  the  tailor  and  his  family, 
liberally  defraying  all  household  expenses,  he  finds  it 
necessary  to  depart,  and,  with  the  tailor’s  consent, 
takes  the  boy  Cajusse  with  him,  in  order  that  he 
may  learn  some  useful  business.  But  no  sooner  are 
they  outside  the  town  than  he  tells  Cajusse  it  is  all 
a dodge.  “I’m  not  your  uncle,”  he  says.  “I  want 
a strong  daring  boy  to  do  something  I am  too  old  to 
do.  I’m  a wizard — don’t  attempt  to  escape,  for  you 
can’t.”  Cajusse,  not  a bit  frightened,  asks  him  what 
it  is  he  wants  him  to  do,  and  the  wizard  raises  a flat 
stone  from  the  ground  and  orders  him  to  go  down, 
and  when  he  gets  to  the  bottom  of  the  cave,  to  pro- 
ceed till  he  comes  to  a beautiful  garden,  where  he  will 
see  a fierce  dog  keeping  watch — there’s  bread  for  him. 
“ Don’t  look  back  when  you  hear  sounds  behind  you. 
On  a shelf  you’ll  see  an  old  lantern ; take  it  down  and 
bring  it  to  me.”  So  saying,  the  wizard  gave  Cajusse 
a ring,  in  case  anything  awkward  should  happen  to 
him  after  he  had  got  the  lantern,  when  he  had  only 
to  rub  the  ring  and  wish  for  deliverance.  Cajusse 
finds  precious  stones  hanging  like  fruit  from  the  trees 
in  the  garden  underground,  and  fills  his  pockets  with 
them.  Eeturning  to  the  entrance  of  the  cave,  he 


316 


POPULAE  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


refuses  to  give  up  the  lantern  until  he  has  been  drawn 
out ; so  the  wizard,  thinking  merely  to  frighten  him, 
replaces  the  stone.  Cajusse,  finding  himself  thus 
entrapped,  rubs  the  ring,  when  instantly  one  ” [the 
slave  of  the  ring]  appears,  and  the  youth  orders 
Table  laid  for  dinner ! ” He  then  calls  for  his 
mother  and  father,  and  they  have  all  an  unusually 
good  meal.  Some  time  after  Cajusse  returned  home 
the  town  was  illuminated  one  day,  and  he  learned 
it  was  because  the  daughter  of  the  sultan  was  to  be 
married  to  the  grand  vazir’s  son.  He  sends  his  mother 
to  the  palace  with  a basket  of  priceless  jewels  as  a 
present  to  the  sultan,  and  to  demand  his  daughter  in 
marriage  to  her  son.  The  sultan  is  astonished  at  the 
beauty  of  the  gems,  and  says  he  will  give  his  answer 
in  a month.  At  the  end  of  the  same  week,  however, 
the  vazir’s  son  is  married  to  the  princess.  Cajusse 
rubs  his  lantern  and  says,  Go  to-night,  and  take  the 
daughter  of  the  sultan  and  lay  her  on  a poor  pallet  in 
our  outhouse.”  This  is  done,  and  Cajusse,  placing  a 
naked  sabre  in  bed  between  himself  and  the  princess,^ 
begins  to  talk  to  her,  but  she  is  far  too  frightened  to 
answer.  The  same  thing  occurs  three  consecutive 

^ This  incident  of  the  naked  sword,  it  will  be  remembered,  occurs 
also  in  the  story  of  Aladdin  ; and  in  one  of  the  genuine  tales  of  the 
‘Arabian  Nights,’  that  of  Sayf  el-Muluk  and  Badia  el-Jamal,  the 
hero  adopts  the  like  “ precaution  ” while  he  and  the  Princess  of  Hind 
are  drifting  over  the  sea  on  a raft.  The  practice,  with  many  other 
chivalric  observances  and  customs,  seems  to  have  been  early  brought 
from  the  East  to  Europe,  and  is  often  employed  in  mediaeval  romances 
— e.g.y  the  Older  Ed  da,  in  the  case  of  Sigurd  and  Brynhild  ; in  ‘ Sir 
Tristrem’  ; and  in  ‘Amis  and  Amiloun,’  which,  with  the  heroes’ 


ALADDIN’S  WONDEEFUL  LAMP. 


317 


nights,  and  at  last  the  princess  tells  her  mother  how 
she  is  conveyed  in  some  mysterious  way  to  a poor 
hovel,  and  so  on.  The  sultan  learns  of  this  from  the 
mother  of  the  princess,  and  he  does  not  know  what 
to  make  of  such  a strange  business.  The  son  of  the 
vazi'r  complains  to  his  father  that  his  wife  disappears 
every  night,  and  comes  back  just  before  the  dawn. 
Cajusse  now  sends  his  mother  to  the  sultan  with  a 
present  of  three  more  baskets  full  of  jewels,  and  the 
sultan  tells  her  he  may  come  and  see  him  at  the 
palace.  Having  received  this  message,  Cajusse  rubs 
his  lantern,  and  gets  a dress  of  gold  and  silver,  a 
richly  caparisoned  horse,  four  pages  with  velvet 
dresses,  to  ride  behind  him,  and  one  to  go  before, 
distributing  money  among  the  people  and  crying, 
“ Make  way  for  the  Signor  Cajusse ! ” To  be  brief, 
he  is  married  to  the  princess  (she  having  been  duly 
divorced,  doubtless,  by  the  vazir’s  son),  and  they  live 
together  in  joy  and  happiness,  in  a most  magnificent 
palace  reared  and  furnished  by  means  of  his  all- 
bestowing  lantern.  But  by-and-by  the  old  wizard 
hears  of  all  this,  and  resolves  to  obtain  the  lantern  by 
hook  or  by  crook.  So  dressing  himself  as  a pedlar, 

names  changed  to  Alexander  and  Ludovic,  is  interwoven  with  the 
story  of  The  Eavens  in  the  old  English  prose  version  of  ‘ The  Seven 
Wise  Masters.’  Scott  says  “it  was,  in  the  middle  ages,  an  acknow- 
ledged and  formal  emblem  of  the  strictest  continence  betwixt  persons 
who,  from  whatever  cause,  were  placed  in  circumstances  otherwise 
suspicious  ; ” and  he  cites  a historical  instance,  on  the  occasion  of 
Louis,  county  palatine  of  Waldenz,  acting  as  the  Duke  of  Austria’s 
proxy  in  marriage  with  the  Princess  of  Burgundy. — See  notes  to 
Scott’s  edition  (1819)  of  the  Komance  of  Sir  Tristrem,  p.  345, 


318 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


he  comes  near  Cajusse’s  palace  and  bawls  out,  Old 
lanterns  taken  in  exchange  for  new  ones  ! ” Cajusse 
is  from  home,  unluckily,  and  the  princess  sends  a 
servant  out  with  the  lantern,  for  which  the  wizard 
very  gladly  gives  a bran-new  one  in  exchange,  and 
immediately  causes  the  palace  to  be  transported  to  an 
island  in  the  high  seas.  When  Cajusse  returns  and 
finds  what  has  happened,  he  rubs  his  ring  (which  he 
always  wore  on  his  finger)  and  is  conveyed  to  where 
the  palace  now  was.  He  sounds  his  horn ; the  prin- 
cess, hearing  it,  is  delighted,  goes  to  the  window,  and 
tells  Cajusse  that  she  won’t  marry  the  old  man.  He 
gives  her  this  advice:  “Make  a feast  to-night;  say 
you’ll  marry  him  if  he’ll  tell  you  what  thing  would 
be  fatal  to  him,  and  you  will  guard  him  against  it.” 
The  princess  wheedles  out  of  the  wizard  the  fatal 
secret.  “ One  must  go  into  a far-distant  forest,”  he 
tells  her,  “ where  there  is  a beast  called  hydra,  and 
cut  off  his  seven  heads.  If  the  middle  head  is  split 
open,  a leveret  will  jump  out  and  run  off.  If  the 
leveret  is  caught  and  his  head  split  open,  a bird  will 
fly  out.  If  the  bird  is  caught  and  opened,  in  its  body 
is  a precious  stone,  and  should  that  be  placed  under 
my  pillow  I shall  die.”  Cajusse  accomplishes  all 
these  things,  and  gives  the  life-stone  to  the  princess, 
together  with  a bottle  of  opium.  The  princess  drugs 
the  magician’s  wine,  and  when  he  had  laid  his  head 
on  his  pillow  (under  which  was  the  stone),  he  gave 
three  terrible  yells,  turned  himself  round  three  times, 
and  was  dead.  After  thus  ridding  themselves  of  their 


ALADDIN’S  WONDERFUL  LAMP. 


319 


enemy,  the  hero  causes  his  enchanted  palace  to  be 
transported  to  where  it  was  before,  and  he  and  his  beau- 
tiful princess  passed  their  days  in  joy  and  happiness.^ 

Aladdin’s  adventure  with  the  African  magician  at 
the  enchanted  cave  has  its  parallel  also  in  the  Mek- 
lenburg  tale  of  the  Blue  Light  (Grimm’s  German 
collection) : A soldier,  discharged  from  service  and 
journeying  homeward,  obtains  shelter  one  night  in  the 
hut  of  an  old  woman,  who  proves  to  be  a witch,  and 
compels  him  to  dig  her  garden  and  chop  a cart-load  of 
wood  for  his  two-days’  lodging.  On  the  third  day  she 
exacts  from  him  a solemn  promise  to  get  her  the  blue 
light  which  burned  at  the  bottom  of  a well.  She  lets 
him  down  with  a long  rope,  and  having  found  the  blue 
light,  he  makes  a signal  to  be  drawn  up.  When  the 
witch  had  pulled  him  up  near  enough  to  be  within  her 
reach,  Give  me  the  light,”  she  says,  and  I will  take 
care  of  it ; ” but  the  soldier  suspected  treachery  on  the 
part  of  his  hostess,  and  so  he  answered  that  he  would 
not  give  her  the  light  till  she  had  drawn  him  quite 
out  of  the  well.  At  this  the  old  witch  flew  into  a 
rage,  and  let  him  drop  again  to  the  bottom.  There 
the  poor  fellow  lay  for  a while  in  utter  despair,  till  at 

1 It  does  not  seem  very  likely  that  this  Roman  popular  version  of 
our  nursery  favourite  was  derived  from  any  written  source,  since 
Miss  Busk  states  that  the  old  woman  who  told  it  to  her  was  almost 
quite  illiterate  ; moreover,  the  life  of  the  magician  being  represented 
as  depending  upon  a precious  stone,  to  obtain  which  the  hydra  and 
other  creatures  within  it  have  to  be  killed,  is  sufficient  evidence  of 
the  oral  transmission  of  the  tale. — See  Note  at  the  end  of  this  paper : 
“Life  depending  on  some  Extraneous  Object.” 


320 


POPULAE  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


length  recollecting  that  his  pipe  happened  to  be  in  his 
pocket,  and  half  full  of  tobacco,  he  thought  he  might 
as  well  smoke  it  out ; so  he  lit  it,  and  began  to  puff 
away.  All  of  a sudden  a black  dwarf  appeared  before 
him ; he  had  a hump  on  his  back  and  a feather  in  his 
cap.  What  do  you  want  of  me,  soldier  ? ” said  he. 

Nothing  at  all,”  replied  the  soldier.  ‘‘  I am  bound 
to  serve  you  in  everything,”  quoth  the  dwarf,  ''  as  lord 
and  master  of  the  blue  light.”  So  the  soldier  first 
desired  to  be  taken  out  of  the  well,  which  being  done, 
he  next  ordered  that  the  old  witch  should  take  his 
place  in  the  well — and  there  she  may  be  still;  who 
knows  ? He  then  plundered  the  house  of  the  wicked 
crone,  and  took  away  as  much  gold  and  silver  as  he 
could  carry.  The  dwarf,  before  “ taking  himself  off,” 
tells  him  that  if  at  any  time  he  should  want  his  ser- 
vices, he  has  only  to  light  his  pipe  at  the  blue  light, 
and  he  will  instantly  appear  before  him,  ready  to  obey 
any  commands.  After  a variety  of  adventures,  the 
soldier  marries  the  king’s  daughter.^ 

Most  of  the  other  versions,  European  as  well  as 
Asiatic,  may  be  considered  as  belonging  to  the  thank- 
ful Beasts  cycle  of  popular  fictions — a circumstance 
which  would  seem  to  indicate  that  the  tale  is  of  Bud- 
ding origin.  The  following  is  the  substance  of  a 

1 Mr  Taylor,  the  translator  of  a selection  of  Grimm’s  Fairy  Tales 
(Bohn’s  edition),  says  that  this  is  also  found  in  a collection  of  Hun- 
garian stories,  by  Georg  von  Gaal,  under  the  title  of  “ The  Wonderful 
Tobacco  Pipe.” 


ALADDIN’S  WONDEKFUL  LAMP. 


321 


Bohemian  variant,  given  in  M.  Leger’s  collection  of 
Slav  Tales,  No.  15 : 

There  was  once  a rich  man,  who  had  three  sons, 
the  eldest  of  whom  he  sent  away  to  go  the  round  of 
the  world;  and  after  an  absence  of  three  years  he 
returned  home  superbly  dressed,  and  a great  feast 
was  held  in  his  honour.  The  same  happened  to  the 
second  son.  But  as  for  the  youngest,  who  was  called 
Jenik  (or  Johnny),  he  was  despised  as  being  weak- 
minded  ; for  he  did  nothing  but  soil  himself  with  the 
ashes  of  the  stove.^  Yet,  seeing  the  success  of  his 
brothers,  he,  too,  wished  to  go  away  and  seek  his 
fortune  in  the  wide,  wide  world.  “ You  go,  noodle  ! ” 
exclaimed  his  father.  "‘What  will  you  pick  up  on 
the  way,  I wonder?”  Jenik  persists,  however,  and  at  last 
is  allowed  to  go — indeed  they  were  all  so  glad  to  get 
rid  of  him  that  they  actually  gave  him  some  money. 
In  the  course  of  his  wanderings  Jenik  meets  in 
succession  crowds  of  people  who  were  going  to  kill 
a dog,  a cat,  and  a serpent.  He  intercedes  for  them, 
gets  them  as  presents,  and  they  follow  him  in  single  file  : 
Johnny,  dog,  cat,  and  serpent.  By-and-by  the  serpent 
says  to  him,  ''  Come  with  me.  In  the  autumn  we 
serpents  hide  in  our  holes,  and  my  king  will  be  angry 

^ In  fairy  tales  there  are  commonly  three  brothers,  the  youngest 
of  whom  (“Boots,”  as  Dr  Dasent  aptly  styles  him  in  his  Norse 
Tales)  is  invariably  believed  by  the  family  to  be  a mere  idiot,  good 
for  nothing  but  raking  among  the  ashes — Cinderella  is  his  female 
counterpart.  Yet  for  him  alone  has  Dame  Fortune  reserved  her 
favours  : he  accomplishes  tasks  which  his  brothers  have  attempted 
in  vain,  and  generally  comes  home  with  incalculable  wealth,  and  a 
beautiful  princess  for  his  bride. 

VOL.  I. 


X 


322 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


at  my  delay;  but  I’ll  tell  him  of  the  danger  I was 
in  when  you  rescued  me.  So  do  you  ask  for  your 
reward  the  watch  which  hangs  on  the  wall:  by 
rubbing  it  you  may  have  whatever  you  want.” 
Jenik  accompanies  the  serpent,  and  gets  the  en- 
chanted watch.^  He  rubs  it,  and  a sumptuous  meal 
is  before  him  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye.  By  the 
same  means  he  gets  a supper  and  a bed  in  the  evening. 
Next  day  he  returns  home,  expecting  a feast  from  his 
father,  but  instead  of  this  he  is  abused  for  coming 
back  in  rags.  So  Jenik  takes  once  more  to  his 
favourite  amusement  of  grubbing  in  the  ashes.  On 
the  third  day  he  has  grown  weary,  and  goes  out.  He 
rubs  the  magic  watch,  and  gets  a three-storey  house, 
fine  furniture,  silver  plate,  and  so  forth.  He  invites 
his  father,  and  relatives,  and  friends  to  a grand 
banquet.  After  the  first  course,  he  desires  his  father 
to  go  and  fetch  the  king  and  his  daughter,  and  for 
this  purpose  provides  him  with  a coach-and-six.  But 
the  father  will  not  enter  so  royal  a carriage ; he  goes 
on  foot,  and  invites  the  king  and  his  daughter.  Jenik, 
by  means  of  his  magic  watch,  has  the  road  laid  for 
six  miles  with  polished  marble,  and  a new  house 
instantly  erected,  four  storeys  high,  furnished  finer 
than  any  royal  palace.  The  king  gives  his  daughter 
in  marriage  to  Jenik,  and  there  is  a splendid  wedding. 
But  the  princess  does  not  love  Jenik,  and  having 
wormed  out  of  him  the  secret  cause  of  his  wealth, 

1 ‘^Montre  Enchantee,”  according  to  Leger — a local  modification, 
doubtless,  of  the  talisman  of  Eastern  fairy  tales. 


ALADDIN’S  WONDERFUL  LAMP. 


323 


she  steals  the  magic  watch,  rubs  it,  and  off  she  goes 
in  a coach  - and  - six  to  her  father’s,  where,  having 
provided  herself  with  a number  of  servants,  she 
then  proceeds  to  the  sea-shore.  By  the  power  of 
the  watch  she  has  a palace  erected  in  the  middle 
of  the  sea,  connected  with  the  land  by  a bridge,  over 
which  having  passed  into  her  palace,  she  causes 
it  to  disappear. 

Meanwhile  poor  Jenik  is  mocked  by  everybody  and 
without  friends,  excepting  the  cat  and  the  dog  whose 
lives  he  had  saved,  and  with  them  for  his  companions 
he  goes  away — far,  very  far,  on  and  on,  through  great 
deserts,  till  one  day  he  sees  two  crows  fly  to  a moun- 
tain, and  a third  comes  up  to  him.  So  Jenik  asks  this 
crow  why  he  is  so  late,  since  winter  has  come  on ; and 
the  crow  tells  him  that  he  flew  over  a palace  in  the 
sea,  so  beautiful  that  he  could  not  but  linger  and 
admire  it.  Jenik  then  goes  to  the  sea-shore  and 
discovers  the  palace,  which  he  knows  to  be  that  of  the 
faithless  princess.  Bog,”  says  he,  ''  you  can  swim ; 
Puss,  you  are  nimble — sit  on  doggie’s  head,  and  he’ll 
carry  you  to  that  great  house  in  the  middle  of  the  sea. 
Conceal  thyself  near  the  gate,  and  get  secretly  into 
the  bedroom  of  the  princess,  and  take  away  my 
watch.”  So  the  dog  carries  the  cat  through  the  sea 
to  the  palace,  and  when  the  princess  saw  the  cat, 
she  at  once  suspected  what  her  business  was,  so  she 
put  the  watch  in  a box  in  the  cellar.  But  the  cat 
gnaws  a hole  in  the  box,  seizes  the  watch  in  her 
mouth,  and  waits  the  coming  of  the  princess  to  see 


324 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


that  all  is  safe.  At  last  the  door  opens — crack  ! away 
puss  bolts  with  the  precious  watch.  When  the  cat 
seats  herself  on  the  dog’s  head  to  return  to  Jenik,  she 
says  to  him,  ''  Be  careful  not  to  speak  to  me  during 
the  passage.”  The  dog  keeps  silent  till  near  the  shore, 
when  he  can’t  help  asking,  ''  Have  you  the  watch  ? ” 
The  cat  says  nothing,  afraid  of  dropping  the  watch. 
When  they  come  to  a rock,  the  dog  asks  again, 
''  Have  you  the  watch  ? ” Yes,”  says  the  cat,  and  so 
the  watch  falls  into  the  sea.^  Upon  this  follow 
mutual  recriminations.  Presently  the  cat  grabs  a 
passing  fish,  and  is  going  to  kill  him,  when  he  exclaims 
piteously,  ''I  have  nine  children — spare  the  life  of 
the  father  of  a family  ! ” Says  the  cat,  ''  So  be  it ; 
but  you  must  get  us  our  watch,”  which  the  fish  does, 
and  is  then  allowed  to  go  away.  When  Jenik  gets 
back  his  wonder-working  watch,  he  rubs  it,  and  lo ! 
the  wicked  princess  and  her  fine  palace  disappear 
beneath  the  waves ; then  he  returns  home,  and  he, 
and  his  dog,  and  his  cat  lived  happily  together  the 
rest  of  their  days. 

In  the  9th  of  M.  Dozon’s  ' Contes  Albanais,’  the 
hero,  having  saved  a serpent’s  life,  is  rewarded  with  a 
marvellous  stone,  which  he  rubs  accidentally,  like 
Aladdin  with  the  ring  and  the  lamp,  when  a black 
man  appears,  ready  and  able  to  do  whatever  the 

1 From  the  same  cause  was  poor  Hen-Sparrow  drowned — see  ante, 
p.  305.  Truly  saith  the  Preacher,  “ There  is  a time  to  keep  silence, 
and  a time  to  speak.” 


ALADDIN’S  WONDEEFUL  LAMP. 


325 


possessor  of  the  talisman  should  desire  or  command. 
He  immediately  erects  a magnificent  palace,  and  the 
hero  marries  the  king’s  daughter,  of  course.  On  the 
wedding -night,  a who  was  among  the  guests, 

secretes  himself  in  a closet,  and,  while  the  happy 
pair  are  sound  asleep,  steals  the  wonder-stone,  with 
which  he  summons  the  black  man,  whom  he  com- 
mands to  take  the  hero  and  lay  him  at  the  king’s  gate, 
and  then  convey  the  palace  with  the  princess  and  all 
else  in  it  to  the  sea-shore.  In  the  morning  the  hero 
is  discovered  by  the  king’s  guards  and  thrown  into 
prison.  One  day  he  happened  to  look  out,  and  saw  a 
man  with  a cat,  which  he  bought,  and  fed  with  part 
of  his  own  victuals  till  it  grew  to  a great  size,  and 
burrowed  a passage  under  the  prison  walls,  by  which 
the  hero  and  his  four-footed  friend  made  good  their 
escape.  Arrived  at  the  spot  to  which  the  Jew  had 
caused  the  palace  to  be  removed,  the  cat  threatens  to 
destroy  a colony  of  mice  unless  they  procure  the 
talisman.  One  of  their  number  is  selected  for  the 
task.  The  Jew  slept  every  night  with  the  gem  in  his 
mouth,  so  the  mouse  tickles  his  nose  with  her  tail, 
which  causes  the  Jew  to  sneeze  violently,  and  so  the 
talisman  falls  out  of  his  mouth.^ 

But  more  closely  resembling  the  Eohernian  version 
is  a popular  Gregk  tale  in  Hahn’s  collection : A poor 
boy  saves  the  life  of  a snake  which  some  other  boys 

^ Cf.  “ Three  years  without  wages,”  in  Dasent’s  ‘ Tales  from  the 
Fjeld,’  where  the  animals  are  a puppy,  a kitten,  and  a lizard. 


326 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


were  bent  upon  killing.  The  snake,  in  requital  of 
the  lad's  kindness,  induces  his  father  to  give  him  a 
seal-ring.  '‘If  thou  art  in  need  of  anything,”  says 
the  old  snake,  " lick  this  seal,  and  a black  man  will 
appear.  Command  him  to  do  whatever  thou  wilt, 
and  he  will  perform  it.”  The  lad  goes  home  and  bids 
his  mother  look  into  the  cupboard.  He  licks  the  ring, 
and  sure  enough  a black  man  appears,  is  ordered  to 
fill  the  cupboard  with  eatables,  and  when  the  old 
woman  opens  it,  there  they  are.  The  mother  and 
her  son  live  on  in  this  way  for  some  time,  until  one 
day  the  lad  says  to  her,  " Go  to  the  king  and  tell  him 
he  must  give  me  his  daughter  in  marriage.”  She 
naturally  objects,  but,  as  her  son  insists,  at  length 
goes  to  the  king  and  delivers  her  message.  The  king 
laughs,  and  says,  " If  he  is  able  to  build  a castle  larger 
than  mine,  he  shall  have  my  daughter  in  marriage.” 
The  same  night  the  lad  licks  the  seal,  and  commands 
the  black  man  to  build  the  castle,  and  in  a moment 
he  finds  himself  in  a castle  far  bigger  and  handsomer 
than  the  king's.  Next  morning  the  mother  is  sent 
again  to  require  the  king’s  performance  of  his  promise. 
But  the  king  says,  " If  he  is  able  to  pave  the  way  from 
his  castle  to  mine  with  gold,  then  he  shall  have  my 
daughter.”  When  the  lad  hears  of  this  new  condition, 
he  once  more  summons  the  black  man,  who  does  what 
is  required  of  him,  and  on  the  following  morning  the 
old  woman  announces  to  the  king  that  the  way  from 
his  castle  to  that  of  her  son  is  now  paved  with  gold. 
So  the  king  at  last  consents  to  the  marriage.  All  the 


ALADDIN’S  WONDERFUL  LAMP. 


327 


princess  requires  of  her  father  is  a black  man  for  her 
servant,  and  she  is  supplied  with  one.  After  the 
marriage  the  widow’s  son  and  the  princess  lived 
happily  together,  until  he  told  her  the  secret  of  the 
ring,  when  she  stole  it  from  him  while  he  was  fast 
asleep,  and  ran  off  with  the  black  man  to  an  island  on 
the  sea.  There,  by  the  power  of  the  ring,  she  has  a 
castle  built,  in  which  she  lives  with  her  sable  par- 
amour. When  the  widow’s  son  learns  of  his  misfor- 
tune he  is  distracted  with  grief ; but  his  cat  tells  him 
she  will  recover  the  ring  if  he  will  allow  his  dog  to 
be  her  companion,  to  which  he  consents  very  willingly, 
as  may  be  supposed.  So  the  cat  gets  on  the  dog’s 
back,  and  the  dog  swims  with  her  over  the  sea  to  the 
castle  of  the  princess.  It  appears  the  black  man 
keeps  the  ring  in  his  mouth,  under  his  tongue.  In 
spite  of  this,  the  cat  obtains  the  ring,  and  after  some 
adventures  on  the  way  back,  restores  it  to  her  master, 
who  immediately  licks  it,  and  at  his  command  the 
castle  is  removed  from  the  island  to  where  he  stands. 
He  then  kills  the  sable  paramour,  and  lives  thence- 
forth happily  and  contentedly  with  his  princess. 

We  find  the  same  fundamental  outline,  though  with 
incidents  from  other  folk-tales  introduced,  in  a Danish 
member  of  the  Aladdin  cycle : A poor  peasant,  named 
Hans,  who  had  one  son  and  three  daughters  (triplets), 
received  from  an  old  man  one  day  a wishing-box,  on 
condition  that  he  gets  his  three  daughters  when  they 
are  three  years  of  age.  Hans  has  a fine  mansion  built 


328 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


by  the  power  of  his  magic  box,  gets  coaches,  horses, 
and  servants  galore,  and  lives  in  great  style.  At  the 
end  of  three  years  the  three  little  girls  are  taken  away, 
no  one  knows  where  or  by  whom,  in  a grand  carriage. 
The  mother  is  inconsolable,  and  ere  long  dies  of  grief, 
and  soon  after  her  husband  dies  also.  Hans  is  the 
heir  of  all  their  wealth  and  grandeur.  But  the  stewards 
and  servants  rob  him  right  and  left,  and  in  two  years’ 
time  the  king’s  bailiff  comes  and  seizes  everything, 
and  poor  Hans  is  turned  adrift.  He  takes  with  him 
an  old  sheepskin  cloak,  which  he  thought  suitable  to 
his  altered  fortunes,  and  discovers  in  one  of  the  pockets 
the  very  wishing-box  that  had,  unknown  to  him,  made 
his  father  a rich  gentleman.  Presently  a great  black 
fellow  appears  before  him,  and  desires  to  know  his 
commands.  Hans  wishes  to  have  a fiddle,  which  when 
played  upon  causes  everybody  to  dance.  He  then 
enters  the  service  of  a king  as  shepherd.  The  king’s 
daughter  is  charmed  by  the  music  of  the  magic  fiddle, 
and  jestingly  gives  him  her  written  promise  that  she 
would  marry  him.  When  Hans  claims  the  hand  of 
the  princess,  she  laughs  at  him,  and  says  it  was  all  a 
joke.  But  the  king  insists  upon  her  keeping  her  word 
— a written  promise,  too — and  so  they  are  married. 
Hans,  by  means  of  his  wishing-box,  gets  a gold  chariot 
with  six  horses,  and  a castle  some  two  miles  distant, 
where  he  and  his  royal  bride  live  together  for  a time. 
But  the  princess  is  discontented,  keeps  her  own  apart- 
ments, and  seldom  speaks  to  her  husband.  So  Hans 
goes  out  shooting  every  day,  always  carrying  the 


ALADDIN’S  WONDERFUL  LAMP. 


329 


wishing-box  with  him.  By-and-by  a young  cavalier 
comes  to  the  castle,  and  finds  favour  in  the  eyes  of  the 
princess.  He  is  greatly  puzzled  at  what  he  sees : 
riches  and  splendour  reigned  throughout  the  house ; 
no  stint  in  anything;  and  yet  there  was  no  visible 
source  of  income.  He  talks  this  over  with  the  prin- 
cess, but  she  couldn’t  account  for  it.  So  he  advises 
her  to  worm  out  of  her  husband  the  secret  of  his 
wealth.  This  she  does  by  assuming  an  affectionate 
demeanour  towards  him,  and  when  she  learns  of  the 
wishing-box,  she  persuades  him  to  leave  it  in  her  care 
when  he  goes  out  shooting,  lest  he  should  lose  such  a 
precious  treasure.  Next  morning  the  princess  took 
leave  of  him  very  lovingly,  and  wanted  to  know  when 
he  would  be  coming  home,  as  she  would  come  and 
meet  him.  But  no  sooner  was  Hans  gone  than  she 
sent  for  the  young  cavalier,  showed  him  the  box,  and 
related  to  him  all  she  had  learned  about  its  wonderful 
properties.  They  soon  decided  what  to  do.  The 
cavalier  took  the  box  and  tapped  it,  and  out  sprang 
the  black  man,  saying,  ''  What  are  my  new  lord’s  com- 
mands to-day  ? ” ''I  command  you  to  take  this  castle 

just  as  it  stands  and  hang  it  by  four  golden  chains  in 
mid-air  over  the  Bed  Sea.”  No  sooner  said  than  done. 
And  of  all  the  splendour  and  grandeur  not  a trace  was 
left,  as  poor  Hans  found  on  his  return  in  the  evening. 
So  he  begins  to  wander  about  anywhere,  and  he  sees  a 
young  woman  washing  linen,  and  speaks  to  her.  She 
turns  out  to  be  one  of  his  sisters,  who  is  married  to  a 
man  who  is  in  the  form  of  a bear  all  day,  but  for  six 


330 


POPULAK  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


hours  of  the  night  he  is  a man.  Going  farther,  he 
finds  a second  of  the  sisters,  who  is  married  to  a prince 
transformed  into  an  eagle;  and  still  farther,  he  dis- 
covers his  third  sister,  who  is  married  to  a prince 
enchanted  into  the  form  of  a huge  fish.  By  the  help 
of  his  brothers-in-law  Hans  gets  back  his  box,  causes 
the  black  man  to  destroy  the  princess  and  her  par- 
amour the  young  cavalier,  and  then  to  transport  the 
castle  to  where  it  stood  before.  Finally,  his  enchanted 
brothers-in-law  are  restored  to  their  human  forms,  and 
they  all  lived  happily  ever  after.^ 

Although  Galland’s  tale  of  Aladdin  and  his  Lamp  is 
not  found  in  any  Ai^i^ic  text  of  ‘ The  Thousand  and  One 
Nights,’  yet  a most  interesting  variant  of  it  occurs  in 
an  inedited  MS.  text  of  that  fascinating  story-book, 
which  was  brought  from  the  East — from  Constantin- 
ople, it  is  believed — by  Mr  Wortley  Montague,  and  is 
now  in  the  Bodleian  Library,  Oxford.  This  story  has 
been  translated  as  follows,  by  Dr  Jonathan  Scott,  in 
the  sixth  volume  of  his  edition  of  the  ‘ Arabian  Nights,’ 
published  in  1811 : 

A fisherman’s  son  having  in  company  with  his  father 
caught  a large  fish,  the  latter  proposed  to  present  it  to 
the  sultan,  in  hopes  of  receiving  a great  reward.  While 
he  was  gone  home  to  fetch  a basket,  the  son,  moved 
by  compassion,  returned  the  fish  into  the  water,  and, 

1 Abridged  from  Miss  Jane  Mulley’s  translation  of  the  story  from 
‘ Danske  Folkeaventyr,”  etc.,  by  Professor  Grundtyig,  in  the  ‘ Folk- 
Lore  Kecord,’  vol.  iii.  part  2,  pp.  203-213. 


ALADDIN’S  WONDERFUL  LAMP. 


331 


fearful  of  his  father’s  anger,  fled  from  his  country  and 
repaired  to  a distant  city,  where  he  was  entertained  by 
a person  as  a servant.  Strolling  one  day  in  the  market, 
he  saw  a Jew  purchase  of  a lad  a cock  at  a very  high 
price,  and  send  it  by  a slave  to  his  wife,  with  orders 
to  keep  it  safely  till  his  return  home.  The  flsherman’s 
son,  supposing  that  as  the  Jew  gave  so  great  a price 
for  the  cock  it  must  possess  some  extraordinary 
property,  resolved  to  obtain  it ; and,  accordingly,  having 
bought  two  large  fowls,  carried  them  to  the  Jew’s  wife, 
whom  he  informed  that  her  husband  had  sent  him  for 
the  cock,  which  he  had  exchanged  for  the  fowls.  ^ She 
gave  it  him,  and  he,  having  retired,  killed  the  bird,  in 
whose  entrails  he  found  a magic  ring,  which  being 
rubbed  by  his  touch,  a voice  proceeded  from  it  de- 
manding what  were  the  commands  of  its  possessor, 
which  should  be  immediately  executed  by  the  genii 
who  were  servants  of  the  ring. 

The  flsherman’s  son  was  rejoiced  at  his  good  fortune, 
and  while  meditating  what  use  he  should  make  of  his 
ring,  passed  by  the  sultan’s  palace,  at  the  gates  of 
which  were  suspended  many  human  heads.  He  in- 

^ This  recalls  a diverting  Italian  story,  related  in  Leigh  Hunt’s 
‘ Indicator,’  of  two  rogues  in  Bologna,  who  having  seen  an  old  doctor 
of  laws  purchase  a silver  goblet  and  take  it  home,  resolved  to  obtain 
possession  of  it  for  themselves.  With  this  object  they  buy  a fine 
lamprey,  and  one  of  them  goes  with  it  to  the  doctor’s  house,  after 
they  had  observed  him  go  out,  and  tells  his  good  lady  that  he  had 
been  sent  with  it  by  the  doctor,  as  he  had  invited  some  friends  to 
dinner,  and  that  she  was  to  give  the  bearer  his  new  silver  goblet,  in 
order  to  have  his  arms  engraved  on  it.  The  rogues  having  got  the  cup, 
by  another  plausible  story  get  back  the  lamprey — and  the  tale  shook 
the  shoulders  in  Bologna  for  many  months  after. 


332 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


quired  the  reason,  and  was  informed  that  they  were 
those  of  unfortunate  princes,  who,  having  failed  to 
perform  the  conditions  on  which  the  sultan’s  daughter 
was  offered  them  in  marriage,  had  been  put  to  death. 
Hoping  to  be  more  fortunate  than  they  by  the  aid  of 
his  ring,  he  resolved  to  demand  the  princess’  hand. 
He  rubbed  the  ring ; the  voice  asked  his  commands ; 
upon  which  he  required  a rich  dress,  and  it  was  in- 
stantly laid  before  him.  He  put  it  on,  repaired  to  the 
palace,  and  being  introduced  to  the  sultan,  demanded 
his  daughter  to  wife.  The  sultan  consented,  on  con- 
dition that  his  life  should  be  forfeited  unless  he 
should  remove  a lofty  and  extensive  mound  of  sand 
that  lay  on  one  side  of  the  palace,  which  must  be  done 
before  he  could  wed  the  princess.  He  accepted  the 
condition,  but  required  an  interval  of  forty  days  to 
perform  the  task.  This  being  agreed  to,  he  took  his 
leave,  and  having  repaired  to  his  lodging,  rubbed  the 
ring,  commanded  the  genii  to  remove  the  mound,  and 
erect  on  the  space  it  covered  a magnificent  palace,  and 
to  furnish  it  suitably  for  a royal  residence.  In  fifteen 
days  the  task  was  completed ; he  was  wedded  to  the 
princess,  and  declared  heir  to  the  sultan. 

In  the  meanwhile  the  Jew,  whom  he  had  tricked  of 
the  cock  and  the  magic  ring,  resolved  to  travel  in 
search  of  his  lost  treasure,  and  at  last  arrived  at  the 
city,  where  he  was  informed  of  the  wonderful  removal 
of  the  mound  and  the  erection  of  the  palace.  He 
guessed  that  it  must  have  been  done  by  means  of 
the  ring,  to  recover  which  he  planned  the  following 


ALADDIN’S  WONDERFUL  LAMP. 


333 


stratagem : Having  disguised  himself  as  a merchant, 
he  repaired  to  the  palace  and  cried  for  sale  valuable 
jewels.  The  princess,  hearing  him,  sent  an  attendant 
to  examine  them  and  inquire  their  price,  when  the  Jew 
asked  in  exchange  only  old  rings.  This  being  told  to 
the  princess,  she  recollected  that  her  husband  kept  an 
old  shabby-looking  ring  in  his  writing-stand,  and,  he 
being  asleep,  she  took  it  out  and  sent  it  to  the  Jew, 
who,  knowing  it  to  be  the  one  he  had  so  long  sought 
for,  eagerly  gave  for  it  all  the  jewels  in  his  basket.^ 
He  retired  with  his  prize,  and  having  rubbed  the 
ring,  commanded  the  genii  to  convey  the  palace 
and  all  its  inhabitants,  excepting  the  fisherman’s 
son,  into  a distant  desert  island,  which  was  done 
instantly. 

The  fisherman’s  son,  on  awaking  in  the  morning, 
found  himself  lying  on  the  mound  of  sand,  which  had 
reoccupied  its  old  spot.  He  arose,  and  in  alarm  lest 
the  sultan  should  put  him  to  death  in  revenge  for 
the  loss  of  his  daughter,  fied  to  another  kingdom  as 

^ This  familiar  Aladdin-incident  reappears  in  an  Italian  story,  cited 
by  Mr  H.  C.  Coote,  in  ‘Folk-Lore  Record,’  vol.  hi.  part  2,  p.  189  : 
A princess,  after  agreeing  to  surrender  her  young  daughter  to  a magi- 
cian, regrets  her  promise  and  shuts  her  up  in  the  palace,  not  permit- 
ting her  ever  to  go  out.  The  magician,  thus  baffled,  has  recourse  to 
the  following  expedient — to  use  the  words  of  the  tale  itself  : “ The 
magician  was  not  a magician  for  nothing.  He  pretended  to  be  a 
hawker,  and  went  through  the  streets  crying  out,  ‘Women,  women, 
who  will  exchange  rings  of  iron  for  rings  of  silver  ? ’ The  princess’ 
maids  all  ran  down-stairs.  The  magician  profited  by  the  opportunity, 
carried  off  the  young  princess,  and  took  her  away  to  an  enchanted 
palace.” — “ La  Fanciulla  e il  Mago” : De  Gubernatis’  collection,  ‘ Novel- 
line di  Santo  Stefano  di  “ Calcenaia,”  ’ p.  47. 


334 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


quickly  as  possible.  Here  he  endured  a disconsolate 
life,  subsisting  on  the  sale  of  some  jewels  which 
he  happened  to  have  upon  his  dress  at  his  flight. 
Wandering  one  day  through  a town,  a man  offered 
him  for  sale  a dog,  a cat,  and  a rat,  which  he  pur- 
chased and  kept,  diverting  his  melancholy  with  their 
tricks  and  uncommon  playfulness  together.  These 
seeming  animals  proved  to  be  magicians,  who,  in 
return  for  his  kindness,  agreed  to  recover  for  their 
master  his  lost  prize,  and  informed  him  of  their  in- 
tention. He  warmly  thanked  them,  and  they  all  set 
out  in  search  of  the  palace,  the  ring,  and  the  princess. 
At  length  they  reached  the  shore  of  the  ocean,  after 
much  travel,  and  descried  the  island  on  which  the 
palace  stood,  when  the  dog  swam  over,  carrying  on 
his  back  the  cat  and  the  rat.  Being  landed,  they 
proceeded  to  the  palace,  when  the  rat  entered,  and 
perceived  the  Jew  asleep  upon  a sofa,  with  the  ring 
laid  before  him,  which  he  seized  in  his  mouth  and 
then  returned  to  his  companions.  They  began  to 
cross  the  sea  as  before ; but  when  about  half-way  over, 
the  dog  expressed  a wish  to  carry  the  ring  in  his 
mouth.  The  rat  refused,  lest  he  should  drop  it ; but 
the  dog  threatened,  unless  he  would  give  it  to  him,  to 
dive  and  drown  them  both  in  the  sea.  The  rat, 
alarmed  for  his  life,  complied  with  his  demand;  but 
the  dog  missed  his  aim  in  snatching  at  the  ring,  which 
fell  into  the  ocean.  They  landed,  and  informed  the 
fisherman’s  son  of  his  loss ; upon  which  he,  in  despair, 
would  have  drowned  himself,  when  suddenly  a great 


ALADDIN’S  WONDERFUL  LAMP. 


335 


fish,  with  the  ring  in  his  mouth,  swam  close  to  shore, 
and  having  dropped  it  within  reach  of  the  desperate 
youth,  miraculously  exclaimed,  ''  I am  the  fish  which 
you  released  from  captivity,  and  thus  reward  you  for 
your  generosity.”  The  fisherman’s  son,  overjoyed,  re- 
turned to  his  father-in-law’s  capital,  and  at  night, 
rubbing  the  ring,  commanded  the  genii  to  convey 
the  palace  to  its  old  site.  This  being  done  in  an 
instant,  he  entered  the  palace  and  seized  the  Jew, 
whom  he  caused  to  be  cast  alive  into  a burning  pile, 
in  which  he  was  consumed.  From  this  period  he 
lived  happily  with  his  princess,  and  on  the  death  of 
the  sultan  succeeded  to  his  dominions. 

It  will  be  observed  that  this  Turc^-Arabian  form 
of  the  story  comprises  some  elements  of  Galland’s 
version  and  also  of  those  in  which  grateful  animals 
recover  the  stolen  talisman.  Through  the  Ottomans 
the  story  seems  to  have  spread  into  Greece  and  Al- 
bania, while  it  was  probably  brought  to  FTorthern 
Europe  by  the  Mongolians,  since  it  forms  one  of  the 
Eelations  of  Siddhi  Kiir: 

A youth  sets  out  on  a trading  expedition  with  three 
bales  of  merchandise,  which  he  parts  with  to  save  a 
mouse,  a young  ape,  and  a young  bear  from  being 
tortured  by  parties  of  boys.  These  animals  hence- 
forward become  his  attached  friends,  and  one  of  them 
procures  for  him  a talisman,  or  wishing-stone,  from 
the  bottom  of  a river,  where  he  had  seen  it  glittering. 
The  youth  wishes  that,  by  virtue  of  the  talisman,  he 


336 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


might  find  in  the  morning  a flourishing  city  in  the 
plain  where  he  had  pitched  his  tent,  and  in  the  midst 
of  the  city  a shining  palace,  with  plenty  of  horses, 
food,  and  all  good  things.  When  he  awakes,  he  finds 
everything  that  he  had  wished  for,  and  lives  there  for 
a time  very  happily,  until  a caravan  of  merchants 
come  to  the  district.  The  leader  of  the  merchants 
expressed  his  astonishment  at  seeing  a city  and  a 
palace  where  last  year  was  nothing  but  a desert, 
when  the  youth  explained  all  to  him,  and  showed 
him  the  talisman,  by  means  of  which  these  wonders 
had  been  performed.  Perceiving  the  guileless  nature 
of  the  youth,  the  chief  of  the  caravan  offered  him  all 
his  own  and  his  fellow-merchants’  goods,  money,  and 
jewels,  in  exchange  for  the  talisman,  which  he  ac- 
cepted, and  behold ! next  morning  the  city,  and  the 
palace,  and  all  therein  had  vanished,  and  the  youth 
finds  himself  lying  on  a barren  island.  His  four- 
footed  companions  recover  the  talisman  in  this  wise : 
Having  ascertained  where  the  merchants  were  resid- 
ing, they  proceed  thither.  The  mouse  creeps  through 
the  keyhole  into  the  room  where  the  chief  of  the 
merchants  is  asleep,  and  finds  the  talisman  guarded 
by  two  fierce  cats,  chained  close  to  it.  He  returns 
and  relates  this  to  his  companions,  and,  acting  on 
the  advice  of  the  ape,  goes  in  again,  and  gnaws  the 
sleeper’s  hair,  wdiich  annoyed  him  so  much  that  he 
causes  the  cats  to  be  chained  to  his  pillow  the  next 
night,  thus  leaving  the  talisman  unguarded ; and, 
aided  by  the  ape  outside,  the  mouse  contrives  to  drag 


Aladdin’s  wondeeful  lamp. 


337 


it  through  the  keyhole  and  restore  it  to  the  despair- 
ing youth. 

We  have  thus  traced  the  tale  of  Aladdin  and  his 
Wonderful  Lamp  through  several  European  versions  to 
a Mongolian  form  ; but  it  has  not,  I think,  been  hitherto 
pointed  out  that  a very  similar  fiction  is  also  current 
in  Southern  India.  This  I am  now  enabled  to  do, 
through  the  courtesy  of  my  friend  Pandit  S.  M.  Nat&a 
Sastri,  of  the  Government  Archaeological  Survey,  Ma- 
dras, who  has  favoured  me  with  an  early  copy  of  his 
translation  of  the  Tamil  romance,  ‘ Madana  Kamaraja 
Kadai,’  from  the  second  story  of  which  I present  the 
following  abstract : 

Alakesa,  king  of  Alakapuri,  dying  prematurely, 
left  behind  him  a young  son  and  a very  good  wife, 
with  whom  he  had  lived  happily.  The  king’s  younger 
brother  acted  as  regent  during  the  minority  of  his 
little  nephew  ; but  after  a time,  fired  by  ambition, 
he  turned  the  young  prince  and  his  mother  adrift. 
The  ex-queen  goes  to  her  father’s  house  and  obtains  a 
hundred  pagodas,  which  she  gives  to  her  son,  telling 
him  to  lay  the  money  out  in  some  sort  of  goods  for  sale, 
and  thus  make  his  own  livelihood.  The  youth  sets  off, 
and  meets  a farmer  with  a cat  and  her  kittens  in  a 
gunny-bag,  which  he  means  to  get  rid  of,  as  they 
were  a nuisance.  Inquiring  the  price  of  the  kittens, 
he  is  told  by  the  unprincipled  husbandman,  perceiving 
his  simplicity,  that  he  wants  500  pagodas;  but  when 
the  youth  says  that  he  has  only  100,  he  lets  him  have 

VOL.  I. 


Y 


338 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


one  kitten  for  the  money,  as  a great  bargain.’’  The 
lad  returns  home,  and  shows  his  purchase  to  his 
mother,  who  is  vexed  at  his  stupidity,  but  goes  back 
to  her  father  and  gets  another  100  pagodas,  which  she 
gives  her  son,  cautioning  him  to  be  more  careful  this 
time.  He  goes  away  once  more,  and  meets  with  a 
snake  - charmer  carrying  two  baskets  full  of  snakes 
suspended  at  the  ends  of  a long  bamboo  rod  across 
his  shoulders.  Among  these  snakes  was  the  son  of 
Adisesha,  the  king  of  the  serpents,  who  had  left  his 
palace  in  the  lower  regions  and  come  to  see  the  world, 
and  had  been  captured  by  the  snake-charmer.  The 
simple-minded  lad  purchases  the  snake-prince  with  his 
second  100  pagodas,  and  his  mother  is  deeply  grieved 
to  find  how  he  has  again  thrown  away  his  money. 
After  this  he  goes  about  begging  from  door  to  door, 
sharing  his  food  with  the  cat  and  the  serpent,  until 
his  mother  bids  him  get  rid  of  the  serpent,  as  it  is  the 
enemy  of  mankind.  So  he  takes  the  serpent  into 
a wood,  and  explains  to  him  that  he  must  abandon 
him  in  obedience  to  his  mother’s  order.  The  snake 
invites  his  benefactor  to  his  father’s  palace,  and  Adi- 
sesha, the  king  of  the  snakes,  gives  him  a ring,  which 
he  has  only  to  put  on  his  finger,  and  extolling  Para- 
mesvara,  think  of  what  he  wants,  and  it  will  be 
instantly  before  him. 

Highly  delighted  with  his  treasure,  the  young  prince 
went  into  a thick  jungle,  and  thinking  of  the  deity 
Paramesvara,  the  supreme  lord  of  the  world,  he  ex- 
claimed, '^May  this  forest  to  a distance  of  500  hds 


ALADDIN’S  WONDEEFUL  LAMP. 


339 


round  about  me,  with  all  things  in  it,  excepting 
myself,  be  burnt  to  ashes ! May  those  people  who 
protected  me  during  my  misfortunes  come  here  and  be 
my  subjects  ! May  there  rise  here  dwellings  to  accom- 
modate them  with  their  families ! May  they  have 
fields,  gardens,  pleasure -villas,  and  everything  that 
they  had  in  their  own  towns  ! May  broad  rivers  run 
throughout  the  year  in  this  country  ! May  my  mother 
and  cat  join  me  here ! May  I have  a palace  for  my 
own  use,  a minister,  a commander,  and  every  other 
officer  of  a royal  household  ! And  may  this  kingdom 
be  known  as  Mshadadesa  I ” No  sooner  had  he 
uttered  these  words  than  the  whole  forest  was  burnt 
down  with  everything  therein,  except  himself.  The 
people  who  protected  him,  his  mother,  and  his  cat 
appeared  before  him.  Palaces,  mansions,  pleasure- 
villas,  temples,  tanks,  and  all  other  requisites  sprang 
up.  Eivers  began  to  flow  through  the  land.  And 
thus,  by  the  power  of  the  ring  which  he  obtained  from 
Adisesha,  in  a moment  a thick  jungle  was  converted 
into  a populous  country.  Those  who,  taking  pity  on 
the  prince,  had  formerly  supplied  him  with  food,  were 
now  very  glad  to  become  his  subjects,  and  he  was 
equally  pleased  to  be  their  sovereign.  His  mother, 
who  had  been  so  much  grieved  at  his  stupidity  in 
having  bought  a snake  for  100  pagodas,  now  thanked 
the  gods  for  his  good  fortune. 

One  moonlight  night,  after  some  years  of  peace  and 
plenty  and  prosperity,  the  prince,  who  was  now  in  the 
prime  of  youthful  manhood,  was  lying  awake,  and 


340 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


thought  by  the  power  of  his  ring  as  to  whom  Parame- 
svara  designed  for  his  consort.  Closing  his  eyes  for 
an  instant  in  deep  contemplation,  he  found  that  at 
a distance  of  500  hds  from  his  city  there  was  another 
called  Svarnapun',  ruled  over  by  a king  named 
Svarnfea,  and  that  his  daughter  was  destined  to  be 
his  queen-consort.  So  he  said,  ‘‘  May  that  princess  be 
lifted  with  her  couch,  without  disturbing  her  slumber, 
and  brought  here  immediately ! ” And  lo  ! the  couch 
descended  and  the  princess  was  before  him.  The 
prince  touched  her  gently,  and  she  opened  her  eyes, 
and  discovered  that  she  had  been  mysteriously  trans- 
ported from  her  own  chamber  into  another  country. 
She  was  very  prudent  as  well  as  intelligent,  so  she 
said  to  the  prince  that  she  was  convinced  she  was 
destined  for  his  wife,  and  begged  him  to  defer  their 
nuptials  for  a few  days,  in  order  that  she  should  com- 
municate the  matter  to  her  father.  Then  kissing  her 
future  lord,  she  stood  before  him  respectfully,  as  if 
waiting  his  orders.  The  prince,  highly  gratified  with 
the  prudent  advice  of  the  young  lady,  sent  her  back 
on  her  couch  to  her  own  chamber  in  her  native  country 
by  the  power  of  his  ring.  Next  day  the  prince  de- 
spatched ambassadors  to  Svarnapun',  requesting  the 
hand  of  his  daughter  in  marriage,  and  after  all  pre- 
liminaries had  been  properly  arranged,  the  nuptials 
were  celebrated  with  unexampled  splendour. 

Now  the  princess  was  very  fond  of  sea-bathing,  so 
she  desired  her  lord  to  construct  an  underground  pass- 
age from  her  bed-chamber  to  the  sea-shore,  which  was 


ALADDIN’S  WONDERFUL  LAMP. 


341 


at  once  accomplished  by  the  power  of  the  ring,  and 
the  princess  always  used  this  secret  passage  when  she 
went  to  take  her  bath.  One  morning  after  she  had 
bathed  a hair  fell  from  her  head,  and,  collecting  itself 
into  a ball  by  the  dashing  of  the  waves,  was  lying  on 
the  shore.  The  king  of  Kochchi  Cochin]  chanced 
to  ride  past,  and  perceived  the  hair-ball.  He  took  it 
up  and  examined  it,  and  unrolling  it  found  it  to  con- 
sist of  a single  hair  ten  hhdgams'^  long.  By  his  know- 
ledge of  the  art  of  discovering  the  beauty  and  nature 
of  human  beings  from  anything  belonging  to  them, 
the  king  of  Kochchi  at  once  concluded  that  the 
woman  from  whose  head  the  hair  had  fallen  must  be 
a paragon  of  beauty,  and  he  resolved  to  obtain  her  as 
his  wife.^  He  offered  a great  reward  to  any  person 
who  should  accomplish  his  desire.  An  old  double- 


^ A hhdga  is  equal  to  two  yards. 

2 An  analogous  incident  is  related  in  No.  4 of  the  Rev.  Lai  Bahari 
Day’s  ‘ Folk-Tales  of  Bengal  ’ : “ The  first  day  they  went  to  bathe, 
one  of  [Princess]  Keshavati’s  hairs  came  off,  and  as  it  is  the  custom 
with  women  never  to  throw  away  a hair  unaccompanied  with  some- 
thing else,  she  tied  the  hair  to  a shell  which  was  floating  on  the 
water,  after  which  they  returned  home.  In  the  meantime  the  shell 
with  the  hair  tied  to  it  floated  down  the  stream,  and  in  course  of 
time  reached  the  ghat  [or  bathing- place]  at  which  Sahasra  Dal  and 
his  companions  were  in  the  habit  of  performing  their  ablutions. 
The  shell  passed  by  when  Sahasra  Dal  and  his  friends  were  bathing ; 
and  he  seeing  it  at  some  distance  said  to  them,  ‘ Whoever  succeeds  in 
catching  hold  of  yonder  shell  shall  be  rewarded  with  a hundred 
rupees.’  They  all  swam  towards  it,  and  Sahasra  Dal,  being  the 
fleetest  swimmer,  got  it.  On  examining  it  he  found  a hair  tied  to 
it.  But  such  a hair  ! It  was  exactly  seven  cubits  long.  ‘ The 
owner  of  this  hair  must  be  a remarkable  woman,  and  I must  see 
her,’  said  Sahasra  Dal,  and  he  went  home  from  the  river  in  pensive 
mood.” 


342 


POPULAE  TALES  AND  PICTIONS. 


bent  woman  undertook  the  task,  and  ascertaining  the 
place  where  the  hair  was  discovered,  she  proceeded 
thither.  Collecting  some  pieces  of  wood,  she  heaped 
them  in  a pile,  and  setting  fire  to  it,  sat  down  and 
began  to  weep.  The  queen  of  Mshada  came,  as  was 
her  custom,  for  her  morning  bath.  Hearing  a woman 
crying,  she  was  greatly  affected,  and  looking  about 
her,  perceived  the  old  trot  mourning  over  the  funeral 
pile,  and  ran  to  console  her.  The  old  woman,  when 
the  beautiful  princess  drew  near,  threw  her  arms 
round  her  neck  and  exclaimed,  ''My  daughter,  you 
left  me  in  my  old  age  but  a few  hours  ago  for  the 
other  world.  I am  astonished  to  see  that  you  have 
returned  again ! ’’  These  words,  of  course,  excited  the 
queen’s  pity,  and  thinking  that  the  poor  woman  had 
lost  a daughter  of  her  age  and  had  mistaken  her  for 
that  daughter,  she  consoled  her  with  appropriate 
words.  The  queen  then  inquired  into  hef  history. 
" I had  an  only  daughter,”  replied  the  old  woman ; 
" and  as  we  were  going  to  a neighbouring  village  she 
suddenly  died,  and  hence  my  sorrow.”  So  the  queen 
took  her  to  the  palace,  and  caused  a room  to  be  pre- 
pared for  her  use.  The  old  hag  pretended  to  be  de- 
voted to  the  queen  and  all  the  other  female  members 
of  the  palace ; and  even  Mshadesa  liked  her,  and  be- 
lieved her  to  be  a woman  of  great  piety  and  virtue. 
One  day,  when  it  was  not  the  season  for  mango-fruits, 
the  old  woman  earnestly  begged  the  queen  to  gratify 
her  by  procuring  one,  and  on  the  queen’s  acquainting 
her  royal  consort  of  this  request,  he  at  once  said  aloud 


ALADDIN  S WONDERFUL  LAMP. 


343 


in  the  crone’s  presence,  ''  Let  there  be  a mango-fruit 
by  the  power  of  this  ring,”  when  it  appeared ; and  she 
readily  understood  that  if  she  could  but  get  the  ring 
into  her  possession,  it  would  be  an  easy  matter  to 
secure  the  queen  for  the  king  of  Kochchi.  So,  with 
this  design,  she  pretended,  a day  or  two  afterwards,  to 
have  a severe  headache.  All  sorts  of  remedies  were 
applied,  but  without  effect.  At  last  she  called  the 
queen  to  her  side  and  said,  ''  My  daughter,  there  is 
only  one  remedy  that  can  possibly  cure  my  headache 
and  save  my  life,  and  that  is  your  husband’s  ring. 
Get  that  for  me,  and  I shall  return  it  after  wearing  it 
on  my  finger  for  a few  seconds.”  The  queen  procures 
the  ring  and  takes  it  to  the  infamous  old  hag,  who 
had  no  sooner  put  it  on  her  finger  than  she  ascended 
into  the  sky  and  disappeared,  leaving  the  queen  in  a 
state  of  utter  despair. 

The  old  woman  reached  Kochchi  in  the  twinkling  of 
an  eye,  and  having  placed  the  ring  before  the  king 
and  received  the  promised  reward,  she  told  him  that  if 
he  thought  of  the  lady  he  admired,  with  the  ring  on 
his  finger,  he  should  have  her  by  his  side  instantly. 
As  the  king  was  dying  for  love,  he  thought  of  the  lady; 
and  lo ! the  queen  of  Mshada,  who  was  pining  away 
in  sorrow  for  the  loss  of  the  ring,  was  suddenly  lifted 
into  the  sky  and  placed  before  him.  Delighted  at  the 
power  of  the  ring,  he  then  desired  that  the  king  of 
Mshada  should  become  mad,  and  that  his  kingdom 
should  be  burnt  to  ashes,  both  of  which  great  misfor- 
tunes took  place  accordingly.  But  the  unhappy  queen 


344 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


obtained  leave  of  the  king  of  Kochchi  to  keep  an  eight- 
days’  fast  before  the  celebration  of  their  nuptials,  dur- 
ing which  she  should  distribute  money  and  food  to  the 
poor.  Thousands  flocked  daily  to  the  palace,  amongst 
whom  came  her  own  husband,  formerly  king  of  Mshada, 
now  a poor  lunatic,  wandering  about  the  land  with  his 
cat,  and  begging  his  bread.  The  queen  observed  him 
take  his  seat  with  other  beggars ; and  when  the  leaves 
were  spread  out  (to  serve  as  plates),  the  mad  king 
fought  with  the  leaf-spreader  to  have  one  laid  also  be- 
fore his  cat.  She  remonstrated  with  the  leaf-spreader 
on  his  refusal  to  give  food  to  the  cat,  which  had  life  as 
well  as  men ; and  her  sorrow  knew  no  bounds  to  see 
her  husband  sitting  among  beggars  voraciously  eating 
the  food  placed  before  him  ; and  when  he  had  satisfied 
his  hunger  he  lay  down  and  slept,  while  his  faithful  cat 
perched  upon  his  bosom. 

Some  refuse-leaves  had  been  thrown  near  the  spot 
where  the  king  of  Mshada  slept,  and  a number  of  rats 
began  to  eat  them.  Among  these  was  a stout  rat,  who, 
by  his  prominent  appearance  and  the  respect  paid  to 
him  by  the  others,  was  evidently  the  rat-king.  The 
cat,  who  was  pitying  his  master  all  the  while,  and 
wished  to  try  his  best  to  reinstate  him  in  his  kingdom, 
sprang  on  the  rat-raja,  and  seizing  him  by  the  neck, 
spoke  to  him  thus : If  you  are  able  to  do  me  a service 
which  I require,  I will  set  you  at  liberty.  My  master, 
who  lies  there  asleep,  had  a ring  which  is  now  in 
the  possession  of  the  king  of  this  country.  If  you 
do  not  bring  it,  I shall  certainly  eat  you.”  The  rat 


ALADDIN’S  WONDEEFUL  LAMP. 


345 


promised  to  procure  the  ring,  and  sent  his  subjects  to 
examine  the  king’s  treasure-chests.  To  their  great  joy, 
they  found  the  ring  in  a box  near  which  the  king  of 
Kochchi  was  himself  sleeping,  and  brought  it  to  the 
cat,  who  then  liberated  the  rat-raja.  The  cat,  having 
awoke  his  master  by  placing  the  ring  on  his  breast, 
related  how  it  had  been  lost  and  recovered ; and 
W’hen  the  king  put  the  ring  on  his  finger,  behold ! his 
senses  were  restored  to  him.  Wishing  himself  and  his 
queen  back  in  Nishada,  and  everything  to  be  as  it  was 
before,  he  then  wished  Kochchi  to  become  insane  and 
his  kingdom  destroyed,  and  all  these  things  were  ac- 
complished. Thus  reclaiming  every  good  thing  which 
he  had  lost  by  means  of  his  faithful  cat,  the  king  reigned 
many  years  over  his  loyal  subjects. 

The  story  of  Aladdin  and  his  Lamp  and  three  or 
four  others  in  Galland’s  ' Mille  et  une  Knits  ’ were, 
on  the  first  publication  of  that  work,  generally  con- 
sidered as  his  own  inventions ; and  when  in  after- 
years several  Arabic  texts  of  the  ' Elf  Layla  wa  Layla  ’ 
preserved  in  the  great  European  libraries  were  ex- 
amined and  none  of  these  tales  discovered  in  any  of 
them,  it  was  almost  concluded  that  they  were  not  of 
Asiatic  extraction.  Yet  Galland  was  surely  the  last 
man  to  attempt  such  an  imposture,  even  had  he  pos- 
sessed the  ability — which  there  is  no  reason  to  sup- 
pose— for  constructing  from  his  own  fancy  tales  at 
least  equal  to  those  which  are  admitted  to  be  of  Ara- 
bian composition ; and  indeed  his  literary  integrity  is 


346 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


now  satisfactorily  vindicated.  Mr  H.  C.  Coote,  in  an 
interesting  paper  on  “ The  Sources  of  some  of  M.  Gall- 
and’s  Tales/’  published  in  the  'Folk-Lore  Eecord/  vol. 
iii.  part  2,  has  shown  that  the  chief  incidents  of  the 
stories  of  Aladdin,  Ali  Baba,  Prince  Ahmed,  and  the 
Two  Envious  Sisters  were  known  in  Italy  before  Gall- 
and’s  work  appeared,  and  is  of  the  opinion  that  the 
equivalents  of  these  four  tales  found  their  way  into 
Italy  through  Byzantine  Greece,  European  and  Asi- 
atic, but  that  Galland  probably  heard  them  at  Con- 
stantinople and  Smyrna,  where  he  sojourned  many 
years.  It  does  not  appear  that  Mr  Coote  knew  of  the 
Turco-Arabian  (or  Turco-Egyptian)  version  presented 
in  the  story,  cited  in  the  present  paper,  of  the  Fisher- 
man’s Son,  or  of  the  Mongolian  form,  in  both  of  which 
the  fundamental  outlines  are  similar  to  several  Euro- 
pean variants,  more  especially  the  incident  of  the 
recovery  of  the  talisman  by  grateful  animals,  which 
Galland  may  have  thought  advisable  to  modify  to 
suit  the  taste  of  his  readers.  So  far  indeed  was 
Galland  from  inventing  these  four  stories,  that  they 
all  occur  in  Asiatic  collections,  and  a fifth,  Zeyn  el- 
Asnam,  my  learned  friend  Mr  E.  J.  W.  Gibb  informs 
me  he  has  found  in  a Turkish  story-book,  by  'All  'Aziz. 


ogee’s  life  in  an  exteaneous  object.  347 


NOTE. 

Life  depending  on  some  Extraneous  Object  (p.  318). 

This  is  a characteristic  of  many  folk- tales  all  over  the  world, 
and  some  of  our  comparative  mythologists  have  attempted  to 
explain  its  signification  with  very  considerable  ingenuity.^  Miss 
Busk,  in  a note  on  the  death  of  the  wizard  in  her  story  of 
Cajusse,  cites  a parallel  from  a Hungarian  tale,  in  which  the 
hero,  Istvan  (or  Stephen),  after  a series  of  strange  adventures, 
is  returning  home  with  his  bride,  a king’s  daughter,  and  having 
drawn  the  king  of  the  dwarfs  out  of  a ditch,  is  himself  thrust 
into  it  by  the  ungrateful  monster,  who  then  decamps  with  the 
princess.  Istvan  sets  out  to  recover  his  bride.  He  meets  with 
a frog  w’hose  life  he  had  saved,  and  who  gives  him  important 
aid,  and  leads  him  through  further  heroic  adventures,  in  which 
he  renders  services  to  other  animals,  who  conduct  him  to  the 
palace  of  the  dwarf-king.  Here  exactly  the  same  scene  occurs 
between  Istvan  and  his  bride  as  between  Cajusse  and  the  sultan’s 
daughter,  and  they  lay  the  same  plan.  But  the  dwarf- king  is 
more  astute  than  the  magician,  for  he  at  first  tells  her  that 
his  life’s  safety  lies  in  his  sceptre,  on  which  she  persuades  him 
to  give  her  the  sceptre,  that  she  may  take  care  of  it,  but  really 
intending  to  give  it  to  Istvan.  When  he  sees  her  so  anxious  for 
his  safety,  he  tells  her  it  is  not  in  his  sceptre ; but  he  does  not 
yet  tell  the  truth,  for  he  next  says  it  is  in  the  royal  mantle,  and 
then  in  the  crown.  Ultimately  he  confides  to  her  that  his  life 
is  in  a golden  cockchafer,  inside  a golden  cock,  inside  a golden 
sheep,  inside  a golden  stag,  in  the  99th  island.  She  communi- 
cates all  this  to  Istvan,  who  overcomes  these  golden  animals  by 
the  help  of  the  beasts  he  had  lately  succoured,  and  thus  recovers 
his  bride. 

In  the  Russian,  story  of  Koshchei  the  Deathless  (Mr  Ralston’s 
collection).  Prince  Ivan’s  mother  says  to  him,  Whereabouts  is 

1 See  Cox’s  ‘Aryan  Mythology,’  vol.  ii.  pp.  36,  330;  De  Gubernatis’ 
‘Zoological  Mythology,’  vol.  i.  p.  168;  and  an  able  paper  in  the  ‘Folk- 
Lore  Journal,’  1884,  vol.  ii.  p.  302,  on  “The  Philosophy  of  Punchkin,” 
by  Mr  Edward  Clodd. 


348 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


your  ^ death,’  0 Koshchei  1 ” He  answers,  “ My  death  is  in  such 
and  such  a place.  There  stands  an  oak,  and  under  the  oak  is  a 
casket,  and  in  the  casket  is  a hare,  and  in  the  hare  is  a duck,  and 
in  the  duck  is  an  egg,  and  the  egg  is  my  death.”  By-and-by 
Prince  Ivan  went  to  look  for  Koshchei’s  death.  He  went  on 
his  way  a long  time  without  eating  or  drinking.  At  last  he 
felt  mortally  hungry,  and  thought,  If  only  something  would 
come  my  way.”  Suddenly  there  appeared  a young  wolf,  and  he 
determined  to  kill  it.  But  out  of  a hole  sprang  the  she-wolf  and 
said,  “ Don’t  hurt  my  little  one,  and  I’ll  do  you  a good  turn.” 
Says  Prince  Ivan,  “Very  good,”  and  he  let  the  young  wolf  go. 
After  this  he  befriends  in  succession  a crow  and  a pike,  and 
these  grateful  animals  help  him  to  get  Koshchei’s  “ death.” — In 
another  version  Koshchei  attempts  to  deceive  his  fair  captive 
by  pretending  that  his  death  resides  in  a besom  or  in  a fence, 
both  of  which  she  adorns  with  gold  in  token  of  her  love.  Then 
he  confesses  that  his  death  really  lies  in  an  egg,  inside  a duck, 
inside  a log,  which  is  floating  on  the  sea.^ 

So,  too,  in  one  of  Campbell’s  ‘Tales  of  the  West  Highlands,’ 
there  is  a flagstone  under  the  threshold,  a wether  is  under  the 
flagstone,  in  the  wether  is  a duck,  in  the  duck  an  egg,  and  in 
the  egg  is  the  giant’s  soul.  And  in  Dasent’s  ‘Norse  Tales’  the 
princess  learns  from  the  giant  who  had  no  heart  in  his  body, 
that  “ far,  far  away,  in  a lake  lies  an  island,  in  that  island  is  a 
church,  in  that  church  is  a well,  in  that  well  a duck  is  swim- 
ming, in  that  duck  is  an  egg,  and  in  that  egg  is  my  heart,  you 
darling  ! ” 

The  same  notion  occurs,  with  local  modifications,  in  a great 
number  of  Hindu  folk-tales.  To  cite  a few  examples  : In  Miss 
Frere’s  ‘ Old  Deccan  Days  ’ (story  of  Punchkin),  a magician 
says,  “ Far,  far  away,  hundreds  of  thousands  of  miles  from 

1 Cf.  Delilah’s  attempts  to  wheedle  out  of  Samson  the  secret  of  his 
strength : how  he  told  her,  first,  that  if  bound  with  seven  green  withs, 
he  should  be  weak  and  be  as  another  man  ; next,  if  he  were  bound  with 
new  ropes  ; then,  if  the  seven  locks  of  his  head  were  fastened  to  the  pin 
of  the  weaving-beam ; and  how  he  confessed  at  last  the  fact  that  if 
his  head  were  shaven  his  strength  should  depart. — Book  of  Judges, 
xvi.  4-20. 


ogre’s  life  in  an  extraneous  object.  349 


this,  there  lies  a desolate  country  covered  with  jungle.  In  the 
midst  of  the  jungle  grows  a circle  of  palm-trees,  and  in  the 
centre  of  the  circle  stand  six  chattis  full  of  water,  piled  one 
above  another.  Below  the  sixth  chatti  is  a small  cage,  which 
contains  a little  green  parrot.  On  the  life  of  that  parrot  de- 
pends my  life,  and  if  the  parrot  is  killed  I must  die.”  A rak- 
shasa,  in  another  story,  says,  “ Sixteen  miles  away  from  this 
place  is  a tree  ; round  the  tree  are  tigers  and  bears  and  scorpions 
and  snakes ; on  the  top  of  the  tree  is  a great  flat  snake  ; on  the 
snake’s  head  is  a little  cage ; in  that  cage  is  a bird ; and  my  soul 
is  in  that  bird.”  In  Miss  Stokes’  ‘Indian  Fairy  Tales’  the 
daughter  of  a demon  tells  a king’s  son,  “ On  the  other  side  of 
the  sea  is  a great  tree  ; in  that  tree  is  a nest ; in  that  nest  is  a 
maina  [hill-starling]  ; and  if  one  kills  that  maina,  my  father 
will  die.”  In  No.  I of  the  Eev.  Lai  Bahari  Day’s  ‘ Folk-Tales 
of  Bengal  ’ the  life  of  a young  prince  is  bound  up,  from  his  birth, 
in  that  of  a hoal  fish,  which  is  in  a tank  in  front  of  the  palace. 
In  the  heart  of  the  fish  is  a small  box  of  wood,  in  the  box  is  a 
necklace  of  gold,  and  in  that  necklace  is  the  prince’s  life.  And 
in  No.  4 a captive  princess  one  night  feigns  anxiety  as  to  what 
she  shall  do  when  her  “ friend  ” the  rakshasi  (female  demon) 
shall  die,  to  which  she  responds  that  “ in  a tank  close  by,  deep 
down  in  the  water,  is  a crystal  pillar,  on  the  top  of  which  are 
two  bees.  If  any  human  being  can  dive  into  the  water  and 
bring  up  these  two  bees  in  one  breath,  and  destroy  them  so  that 
not  a drop  of  their  blood  falls  to  the  ground,  then  we  rakshasas 
shall  certainly  die  ; but  if  a single  drop  of  their  blood  falls  to 
the  ground,  then  from  it  will  start  up  a thousand  rakshasas.” 
— In  a Kashmiri  tale,  entitled  “The  Shipwrecked  Prince,” 
contributed  by  the  Eev.  J.  Hinton  Knowles  to  the  ‘ Indian 
Antiquary’  for  September  1885  (p.  250),  an  ogre  confides  to  his 
fair  captive  that  there  is  in  a certain  tree  a honeycomb,  and  that 
his  life  is  in  the  queen-bee  there.  In  his  cave  is  a stool  which 
would  convey  any  one  who  sat  upon  it  to  the  honeycomb  (or 
anywhere  else),  but  the  bees  are  so  fierce  that  they  would  sting 
to  death  the  person  who  should  attempt  to  seize  their  queen- 
bee  ; so  the  ogre  considered  himself  as  quite  safe. 

In  the  Arabian  story  of  Sayf  el-Muluk  and  Badia  el- Jamal, 


350 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


the  princess  of  Hind  asks  the  genii  who  has  stolen  her  where 
his  soul  abides,  in  order  that  she  might  watch  over  it,  and  he 
tells  her  that  it  is  in  the  crop  of  a sparrow  ; the  sparrow  is  shut 
up  in  a box  ; the  box  is  in  a casket,  which  is  within  seven  other 
caskets,  and  these  again  are  within  seven  chests,  laid  in  an  ala- 
bastrine coffer,  which  is  buried  in  the  margin  of  the  earth 
encircling  the  sea. 

But  the  life  of  the  demon  or  giant  Mairavana,  who  carried  off 
and  confined  Kama  and  Lakshmana,  depended  on  no  less  than 
five  separate  objects.  According  to  a Telegu  version  of  the 
story  (the  Sanskrit  original  of  which  is  said  to  form  a part  of 
the  ‘ Jaimini  Bharata  ’),  Hanuman,  the  monkey-deity,  having 
killed  all  the  giant’s  guards  and  carried  the  two  princes  out  of 
the  castle,  set  to  work  to  demolish  the  fortifications,  which 
brought  Mairavana  against  him.  He  overthrew  but  could  not 
kill  the  giant,  and  on  marvelling  at  the  cause,  is  informed  by 
Dordandi  (the  giant’s  sister)  that  the  five  vital  airs  of  the  giant 
are  on  a mountain  60,000  Ms  remote,  in  the  form  of  five  black 
bees.  Hanuman  immediately  travels  thither,  and  catches  and 
kills  the  bees,  on  which  Mairavana  perishes.^ 

The  comparatively  novel  theory — which  is  entertained  by  Sir 
E.  F.  Burton  and  other  eminent  European  scholars — that  Egypt 
was  the  centre  of  the  world’s  civilisation,  and  that  even  the  most 
ancient  Hindu  apologues  and  fictions  were  derived,  mediately 
or  immediately,  from  that  country,  seems  to  be  supported  to 
some  extent  by  the  circumstance  that  the  notion  of  an  individ- 
ual’s heart  existing  apart  from  his  body  is  found  in  an  Egyptian 
romance,  written  3000  years  ago,  to  which  reference  has  already 
been  made  in  my  introductory  chapter  (pp.  67,  68),  and  of 
which  an  account  is  furnished,  in  a paper  on  Hieratic  Papyri, 
by  Mr  C.  W.  Goodman,  in  ‘ Cambridge  Essays,’  1858  : Satii 
tells  his  brother  Anapii  that  he  will  take  his  heart  and  place  it 
in  the  flowers  of  an  acacia-tree.  If  at  some  future  time  the 
brother  desires  to  renew  communication  with  him,  he  must 
search  for  his  heart,  and,  when  found,  place  it  in  a vessel  con- 

1 ‘ Descriptive  Catalogue  of  the  Mackenzie  MSS.,’  &c.,  by  H.  H.  Wilson ; 
vol.  i.  p.  329. 


ogee’s  life  in  an  exteaneous  object.  351 


taining  wine  or  some  otlier  liquor,  with  certain  ceremonies. 
Satri  will  then  appear  to  him,  and  answer  any  questions  he  may 
put.  . . . Ka,  the  sun -god,  says  to  Num,  the  creator, 

“ Wilt  thou  not  make  a woman  for  Satu,  that  he  may  not  re- 
main alone  Niim  accedes  to  this  request,  and  forms  for  him 
a consort  more  beauteous  than  all  the  women  in  Egypt,  for  all 
the  gods  endow  her  with  gifts.  He  takes  the  beautiful  creature 
to  his  house,  and  she  remains  at  home  while  he  employs  himself 
industriously  in  hunting.  One  day  he  says  to  her,  “ When 
thou  goest  out  to  walk,  beware  lest  the  river  seize  thee,  for  I 
could  not  deliver  thee,  being  a woman  even  as  thou  art  [he  had 
emasculated  himself,  when  his  brother  sought  to  slay  him  on  a 
false  accusation  of  his  (Anapii’s)  wife]  ; for  my  heart  is  among 
the  flowers  of  the  acacia.”  He  then  explains  his  history  to  her. 
The  daughter  of  the  gods  loses  no  time  in  going  to  the  acacia- 
tree  to  search  for  her  husband’s  heart,  when  she  perceives  the 
river  overflowing  his  banks  and  advancing  towards  her.  A lock 
of  her  richly  perfumed  hair  floats  down  the  river  as  she  escapes, 
and  it  is  taken  to  the  king  of  Egypt,  who  seeks  for  her  far  and 
wide,  as  did  another  Egyptian  king,  Psammeticus,  according  to 
^lian,  for  Khodope  (the  prototype  of  Cinderella),  whose  shoe 
was  carried  off  by  an  eagle  while  she  bathed,  and  dropped  into 
his  lap.  When  the  daughter  of  the  gods  is  at  length  discovered 
to  be  the  owner  of  the  tress  of  perfumed  hair,  and  brought  before 
the  king,  she  at  once  induces  him  to  cut  down  the  acacia-tree  in 
order  to  get  rid  of  her  husband  Satii;  then  the  heart  falls  and 
Satu  dies.  He  is,  however,  afterwards  resuscitated,  by  his 
brother  Anapu  finding  his  heart  and  steeping  it,  as  he  had 
been  instructed,  in  a vessel  full  of  wine.  The  resemblance  be- 
tween the  incident  of  the  tress  of  perfumed  hair  in  this  oldest 
of  fairy  tales  and  that  of  the  hair-ball  in  the  Tamil  member  of 
the  Aladdin-cycle,  cited  in  the  foregoing  paper  (p.  341),  is 
probably  not  merely  fortuitous. ^ 

1 Cf.  Gen.  ii.  18  : “ It  is  not  good  that  the  man  should  be  alone ; I will 
make  him  an  help  meet  for  him.  ” 

2 The  “life-trees,”  etc.,  which  figure  in  many  folk-tales  (see  ante^  pp. 
170,  171)  are  evidently  near  akin  to  the  idea  exemplified  in  the  ancient 
Egyptian  story  and  its  derivatives. 


352 


THE  HUNCHBACK  AND  THE  FAIRIES. 

TT  is  well  known  that  fairies  are  (or  rather  were,  for, 
alas  ! they  are  no  more)  a very  merry  but  caprici- 
ous race  of  beings:  well  was  it  for  such  as  found 
favour  in  their  sight — woe  to  those  who  in  any  way 
offended  them ! In  proof  of  this  there  is  an  amusing 
story  in  Thoms’  'Lays  and  Legends  of  France,’  to  the 
following  effect:  Once  upon  a time  a hunchback 
minstrel,  returning  from  a merry-making,  fell  asleep 
on  fairy -ground,  and  awaking  at  midnight  he  dis- 
covered a large  party  of  fairies  disporting  themselves, 
so  he  played  to  them  on  his  instrument,  while  they 
danced  to  their  hearts’  content.  Before  they  departed, 
the  fairies  asked  the  minstrel  to  name  his  wish,  and 
it  would  be  gratified,  as  a reward  for  his  excellent 
music.  He  requested  that  his  hump  should  be  re- 
moved, which  was  done  instantly,  and  he  returned 
to  his  village  straight  in  body,  without  the  ugly  pro- 
tuberance on  his  back.  One  of  his  neighbours,  a 
surly  fellow,  who  had  also  a hump,  became  envious 
of  his  good  luck,  and  on  learning  how  he  had  got  rid 


THE  HUNCHBACK  AND  THE  FAIRIES.  353 

of  his  hump,  secretly  went  at  night  to  the  spot  where 
the  fairies  were  wont  to  dance.  When  they  discovered 
him,  they  desired  him  to  give  them  some  music,  but 
this  he  could  not  do;  so,  by  way  of  revenge,  they 
took  the  minstrel’s  hump,  and  clapped  it  on  that  of 
the  ill-natured  fellow,  who  was  ever  after  the  laugh- 
ing-stock of  his  tovmsmen. 

A different  form  of  this  story  is  given  in  Grimm’s 
‘ Kinder  und  Haus  Marchen  ’ : One  evening  a tailor 
and  a hunchbacked  blacksmith  were  returning  from 
a town  where  they  had  been  working  at  their  respec- 
tive trades.  As  night  came  on,  they  saw  the  sun 
setting  behind  the  hills,  and  presently,  as  the  moon 
rose,  came  the  sound  of  distant  music,  which  grew 
more  distinct  as  they  advanced  on  their  way.  The 
tones  were  somewhat  unearthly,  but  so  charming  that 
they  forgot  their  fatigue,  and  went  forward  with  rapid 
steps.  After  walking  some  little  distance  they  reached 
the  hill-side,  and  caught  sight  of  a crowd  of  little  men 
and  women,  holding  each  other’s  hands  and  dancing 
merrily  in  a circle  to  the  strange  music  they  had 
heard.  In  the  centre  was  a little  old  man,  with  a 
coat  of  many  colours,  and  a snow-white  beard  spread- 
ing over  his  breast.  The  hunchbacked  blacksmith, 
being  a bold  fellow,  stepped  in  to  take  a share  in  the 
merriment ; but  the  tailor  at  first  held  back,  the  ring 
again  closed,  and  the  pixies  resumed  their  dancing. 
After  they  had  ended,  the  old  man  took  a knife, 
sharpened  it  on  a stone,  and  looked  at  the  strangers 
VOL.  I. 


z 


354 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


SO  that  they  trembled.  He  then  seized  the  smith, 
and  with  one  stroke  shaved  his  hair  and  beard  clean 
off,  and  afterwards  treated  the  tailor  in  the  same 
manner.  Then  he  slapped  them  on  the  shoulder, 
and  said  they  had  done  wisely  not  to  resist;  and 
pointing  to  a heap  of  coals,  signed  to  fill  their  pockets. 
Both  did  so,  and  took  leave  of  the  pixies ; and  as  they 
passed  through  a valley  they  heard  the  hour  of  mid- 
night tolled  from  the  church  tower,  upon  which  the 
music  ceased,  and  the  pixies  disappeared.  The  tra- 
vellers put  up  at  a wayside  inn,  where  they  had  to  be 
content  with  a bundle  of  straw  for  a bed,  and  in  the 
morning  they  discovered  their  pockets  filled  with  gold 
in  place  of  the  coals  they  had  taken  the  preceding 
night,  and,  not  less  wonderful,  their  hair  and  beards 
were  grown  again.  The  smith,  who  was  a very 
avaricious  man,  and  had  filled  both  his  pockets,  was 
not  content,  but  proposed  to  go  again  the  next  night ; 
the  tailor,  however,  was  quite  satisfied  with  what  he 
had  got  from  the  pixies,  but  consented  to  wait  for  his 
companion  at  the  inn.  As  night  drew  on,  the  smith, 
having  provided  himself  with  two  large  sacks,  went 
to  the  meadow  where  the  pixies  had  held  their  revels 
the  previous  night,  and  found  the  same  company 
assembled.  The  old  pixie,  who  knew  the  sort  of 
fellow  he  had  to  do  with,  signed  to  him  to  take  as 
much  coals  as  he  pleased,  so  the  smith  filled  his  two 
sacks,  and  returned  to  the  inn.  But  in  the  morning 
he  found  he  had  nothing  save  coals;  his  hair  and 
beard  were  permanently  removed ; the  hump  on  his 


THE  HUNCHBACK  AND  THE  FAIKIES. 


355 


back  had  grown  larger ; and  he  had  ever  afterwards 
to  wear  a cap  to  cover  his  bald  head. 

In  an  Italian  version  entitled  ''  I due  Fratelli 
Gobbi/’  the  Two  Hunchbacked  Brothers,  given  by 
Miss  Busk  in  her  ‘Folk-Lore  of  Eome,’  the  magic 
stick  reappears  for  the  hero’s  benefit : There  was 
once  a man,  who  had  one  son,  who  married  a widow, 
who  had  also  one  son,  and  both  were  hunchbacks. 
The  wife  took  very  good  care  of  her  own  son,  but  the 
son  of  her  husband  she  used  to  put  to  hard  work,  and 
gave  him  scarcely  anything  to  eat.  Her  son,  too,  used 
to  follow  her  example,  and  sadly  ill-used  his  step- 
brother. After  ill-treating  him  for  a long  time,  she 
at  length  sent  him  away  from  the  house  altogether. 
The  poor  little  hunchback  wandered  without  knowing 
whither  to  go.  On,  on  he  went,  till  he  came  to  a 
lonely  hut  on  a wide  moor.  At  his  approach  a 
whole  host  of  little  hunchbacks  came  out  and 
danced  round  him,  chanting  plaintively — 

Sabbato  ! 

Domenica  ! ^ 

a great  number  of  times.  At  last  our  little  hunch- 
back felt  his  courage  stirred,  and,  taking  up  the  note 
of  their  chant,  chimed  in  with — 

Lunedi ! ^ 

Instantly  the  dancing  ceased:  all  the  hunchbacked 
dwarfs  became  full-grown,  well -formed  men,  and, 

^ Saturday,  Sunday.  ^ Monday. 


356 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


what  was  better  still,  his  own  hump  was  gone  too, 
and  he  felt  that  he  also  was  a well -grown  lad. 

Good  people,”  said  he,  ''  I thank  you  much  for  rid- 
ding me  of  my  hump,  and  making  me  a well-grown 
lad.  Give  me  some  work  to  do  among  you,  and  let 
me  live  with  you.”  But  the  chief  of  the  strange 
people  answered  him  and  said,  ''  This  favour  we  owe 
to  you,  and  you  are  not  indebted  to  us;  for  it  was 
your  chiming  in  with  the  right  word  on  the  right  note 
that  destroyed  the  spell  that  held  us  all.  And  in 
testimony  of  our  gratitude  we  give  you  this  little 
wand,  and  you  will  not  need  to  work  as  you  did 
formerly.  Go  back  and  live  at  home,  and  if  any  one 
beats  you  as  heretofore,  you  have  only  to  say  to  it, 
‘ At  them,  good  stick ! ’ and  you  will  see  what  it  will 
do  for  you.”  So  the  youth  goes  home  again,  and 
when  his  step-mother  learnt  how  he  had  got  rid  of 
his  hump,  she  sent  her  own  son  to  the  hut  of  the 
strange  folk.  When  he  saw  a party  of  hunchbacked 
dwarfs  dancing  and  chanting — 

Sabbato  ! 

Domenica  ! 

Lunedi  ! 

he  chanted,  all  out  of  tune, 

Martedi ! ^ 

and  was  rewarded  with  a drubbing  and  a hump  on 
his  breast,  besides  the  one  he  already  had  on  his 
back.  Coming  home,  his  mother,  seeing  his  plight, 
sets  upon  her  step-son ; but  he  takes  his  magic  stick 
^ Tuesday. 


THE  HUNCHBACK  AND  THE  FAIRIES. 


357 


and  cries,  ''  At  ’em,  good  stick ! ” and  the  old  woman 
gets  a sound  rib-roasting,  until  she  begs  for  mercy ; 
and  ever  after  this  he  lived  at  home  in  perfect  peace.^ 

There  is  a version  from  the  south  of  Ireland  which 
presents  a very  close  analogy  to  the  main  incidents 
in  the  foregoing  Italian  story : In  olden  times  there 
lived  a poor  little  hunchback,  who  was  nicknamed 
Lusmore,  from  his  always  wearing  a sprig  of  the 
fairy-cap,  or  lusmore  (the  foxglove),  in  his  straw  hat. 
One  evening  he  was  returning  from  the  town  of 
Cahir  towards  Cappagh,  and  it  was  quite  dark  when 
he  came  to  the  old  moat  of  Knockgrafton.  Tired 
and  weary,  he  sat  down  under  the  moat  to  rest 
himself,  and  began  looking  mournfully  upon  the 
moon.  Presently  there  rose  a wild  stream  of  un- 
earthly melody:  he  listened,  and  thought  he  had 
never  heard  such  ravishing  music  before.  It  was 
like  the  sound  of  many  voices,  each  mingling  and 
blending  with  the  other  so  strangely  that  they 
seemed  to  be  one,  though  all  singing  different 
strains,  and  these  were  the  words  of  the  song: 

Da  Luan, 

Da  Mort, 

Da  Luan, 

Da  Mort, 

Da  Luan, 

Da  Mort ; ^ 

^ A Tuscan  version  given  by  Mr  Crane  in  his  ^Italian  Popular 
Tales,’  p.  103,  agrees  generally  with  the  above : there  is,  however, 
no  step-mother  ; the  two  hunchbacks  reside  together  after  the  catas- 
trophe ; and  the  magic  stick  does  not  figure  in  the  story. 

2 Monday,  Tuesday. 


358 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


when  there  would  be  a moment’s  pause,  and  then  the 
sound  of  melody  went  on  again.  Lusmore  listened 
attentively,  scarcely  drawing  his  breath  lest  he 
should  lose  the  slightest  note.  He  now  plainly  per- 
ceived that  the  singing  was  within  the  moat,  and 
though  at  first  it  had  charmed  him  so  much,  he 
began  to  get  tired  of  hearing  the  same  round  sung 
over  and  over  so  often  without  any  change ; so, 
availing  himself  of  the  pause  when 

Da  Lnan, 

Da  Mort, 

had  been  sung  three  times,  he  took  up  the  tune  and 
raised  it  with  the  words, 

Augus  da  Cadine  ; ^ 

and  then  went  on  singing  with  the  voices  inside  of  the 
moat. 

Da  Luan, 

Da  Mort ; 

finishing  the  melody,  when  the  pause  again  came,  with 
Angus  da  Cadine. 

The  fairies  within  Knockgrafton — for  the  song  was 
a fairy  melody — when  they  heard  this  addition  to 
their  tune,  were  so  much  delighted,  that  with  instant 
resolve  it  was  determined  to  bring  the  mortal 
amongst  them  whose  musical  skill  so  far  exceeded 
theirs,  and  little  Lusmore  was  conveyed  into  their 
company  with  the  eddying  speed  of  a whirlwind. 


1 And  Wednesday. 


THE  HUNCHBACK  AND  THE  FAIEIES. 


359 


The  greatest  honour  was  paid  him,  for  he  was  put 
above  all  the  musicians,  and  he  had  servants  to 
wait  on  him,  and  everything  to  his  heart’s  content. 
By-and-by  Lusmore  saw  the  fairies  engaged  in  con- 
sultation, and  he  felt  frightened,  in  spite  of  their 
civility,  till  one  of  them  stepped  forward  and  said — 

“ Lusmore  ! Lusmore  ! 

Doubt  not,  nor  deplore  ; 

For  the  hump  which  you  bore 
On  your  back  is  no  more  : 

Look  down  on  the  floor, 

And  view  it,  Lusmore  ! ’’ 

When  these  words  were  said,  poor  little  Lusmore  felt 
himself  so  happy  and  so  light,  that  he  thought  he 
could  have  bounded  at  one  jump  over  the  moon ; 
and  he  saw,  with  inexpressible  pleasure,  his  hump 
tumble  from  his  shoulders  to  the  ground.  At  last 
he  fell  into  a sound  sleep,  and  when  he  awoke  he 
found  it  was  broad  daylight,  the  sun  shining  brightly 
and  the  birds  singing  merrily,  and  that  he  was  lying 
at  the  foot  of  the  moat  of  Knockgrafton,  with  the 
cows  and  sheep  grazing  peacefully  about  him.  He 
put  his  hand  behind  to  feel  for  his  hump,  but  it  was 
gone,  sure  enough,  and  he  had  now  become  a well- 
shaped, dapper  little  fellow : moreover,  he  was  clothed 
in  a bran-new  suit,  doubtless  the  gift  of  the  fairies. 
When  he  returned  to  Cappagh,  not  a soul  knew  him 
at  first,  such  was  the  alteration  in  his  person.  The 
story  soon  spread  far  and  wide,  and  one  day  an  old 
woman  came  up  to  him  as  he  sat  by  his  cabin  door. 


360 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


and  told  him  that  the  son  of  her  gossip  had  got  a 
great  hump  on  his  back,  and  she  had  come  to  learn 
the  charm  that  could  effect  its  removal.  Lusmore 
gave  her  all  particulars,  which  she  duly  communi- 
cated to  her  gossip’s  hunchbacked  son,  a peevish  and 
cunning  creature,  whose  name  was  Jack  Madden. 
He  was  driven  by  his  friends  in  a car,  and  just  at 
nightfall  they  left  him  under  the  old  moat  of  Knock- 
grafton.  Jack  Madden  had  not  sat  there  long  when 
he  heard  the  tune  going  on  within  the  moat,  much 
sweeter  than  before;  for  the  fairies  were  singing  it 
the  way  Lusmore  had  settled  their  music  for  them, 
and  the  song  was  going  on. 

Da  Luan, 

Da  Mort, 

Angus  Cadine, 

without  ever  stopping.  Jack  Madden,  who  was  in 
a great  hurry  to  get  rid  of  his  hump,  never  thought 
of  waiting  till  the  fairies  had  done,  so  out  he  bawls 
without  minding  the  time,  or  how  he  could  bring  in 
the  words  properly, 

Angus  da  Cadine, 

Angus  da  Hena,i 

thinking  that  if  one  day  was  good,  two  were  better, 
and  that  if  Lusmore  had  one  new  suit  of  clothes  given 
him,  he  should  have  two.  But  the  words  had  no 
sooner  passed  his  lips  than  he  was  taken  up  and 
whisked  into  the  moat  with  prodigious  force,  and 
the  fairies  came  crowding  about  him  in  great  anger, 

^ And  Thursday. 


THE  HUNCHBACK  AND  THE  FAIRIES. 


361 


screaming,  Who  spoiled  our  tune  ? who  spoiled  our 
tune  ? ” and  twenty  of  the  strongest  fairies  brought 
Lusmore’s  hump  and  put  it  upon  Jack’s  own  hump, 
where  it  became  firmly  fixed.  In  the  morning  his 
friends  found  him  half-dead,  lying  at  the  foot  of  the 
old  moat,  with  a double  hump  on  his  back,  and  they 
carried  him  home,  but  he  died  of  vexation  soon  after, 
leaving  his  heavy  curse,  they  say,  on  all  who  should 
go  and  listen  to  fairy  tunes  again.^ 

From  this  Irish  legend  it  is  probable  that  Parnell 
composed  his  fine  “Fairy  Tale,  in  the  ancient  English 
style,”  of  which  the  opening  verses  are  as  follows : 

In  Britain’s  isle  and  Arthur’s  days, 

When  midnight  fairies  danced  the  maze, 

Lived  Edwin  of  the  Green  ; 

Edwin,  I wis,  a gentle  youth, 

Endowed  with  courage,  sense,  and  truth. 

Though  badly  shaped  he’d  been. 

His  mountain-back  mote  well  be  said 
To  measure  height  against  his  head. 

And  lift  itself  above  : 

Yet,  spite  of  all  that  Nature  did 
To  make  his  uncouth  form  forbid. 

This  creature  dared  to  love. 

He  felt  the  charms  of  Edith’s  eyes. 

Nor  wanted  hope  to  gain  the  prize. 

Could  ladies  look  within. 

But  one  Sir  Topaz  dressed  with  art, 

And  if  a shape  could  win  a heart. 

He  had  a shape  to  win. 

1 Crocker’s  ‘ Fairy  Legends  and  Traditions  of  the  South  of  Ireland  : 

“ The  Legend  of  Knockgrafton.  ” 


362 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


Distraught  with  his  love,  poor  Edwin  wanders  one 
night  near  an  enchanted  court;  he  enters  and  lays 
himself  down,  hoping  to  banish  his  woes  for  a season 
in  slumber.  Suddenly  a hundred  bright  tapers  illu- 
mine the  ruined  hall,  and  he  hears  the  patter  of  many 
feet  and  the  sound  of  many  strange  voices.  From  his 
corner  he  discovers  a gay  procession  of  little  folk 
pranking  along  the  floor.  Presently  one  who  seemed 
the  chief  of  the  fairies  (for  such  they  were)  calls  out. 
What  mortal  infests  the  balmy  air  with  his  doleful 
sighs  ? ” Edwin  comes  forward  and  tells  his  sad  tale 
without  reserve : 

“ ’Twas  grief  for  scorn  of  faithful  love 

Which  made  my  steps  unweeting  rove 
Amid  this  nightly  crew.’’ 

“ ’Tis  well,”  the  gallant  cries  again : 

“We  fairies  never  injure  men 
Who  dare  to  tell  us  true. 

“ Exalt  thy  love-dejected  heart; 

Be  mine  the  task,  or  ere  we  part, 

To  make  thy  grief  resign. 

Now  take  the  pleasure  of  the  chance, 

Whilst  I with  Mah  my  partner  dance, 

Be  little  Mabel  thine.” 

The  dancing  is  followed  by  some  of  the  merry  pranks 
of  Eobin  Goodfellow,  and,  says  the  poet. 

Here  ended  all  the  phantom  play; 

They  smelt  the  fresh  approach  of  day. 

And  heard  the  cock  to  crow : 

The  whistling  wind  that  bore  the  crowd 

Has  clapped  the  door  and  whistled  loud. 

To  warn  them  all  to  go. 


THE  HUNCHBACK  AND  THE  FAIRIES. 


363 


When  Edwin  awoke  at  daybreak  he  found  his  hump 
gone.  Edith  sees  and  admires  him  on  his  return  home. 
Sir  Topaz,  having  heard  of  the  fairy  revels,  goes  to 
witness  them.  His  presence  is  of  course  discovered 
by  the  fairies,  who  demand  to  know  his  business 
there.  Sir  Topaz  replies  that  he  had  lost  his  way, 
but  the  fairies  know  full  well  that  such  was  not  the 
fact,  so  they  punish  him  for  his  falsehood  by  fixing 
Edwin’s  hump  on  his  back ; and  we  may  well  suppose 
that  Sir  Topaz  after  this  no  longer  found  favour  with 
the  beauteous  Edith. 

The  story,  says  a writer  in  the  ‘ Quarterly  Eeview,’ 
No.  LXiii.,  is  told  in  Spain  very  nearly  as  it  is  in 
Ireland : A humpbacked  man  hears  some  small  voices 
singing — 

Lunes  y Martes  y Miercoles,  tres,^ 
and  he  completes  their  song  by  the  addition  of 
Jueves  y Yiernes  y Sabado,  seis.^ 

The  fairies,  who  were  the  songsters,  are  so  pleased  at 
this,  that  they  immediately  relieve  him  from  his  hump 
and  dismiss  him  with  honour.  A stupid  fellow,  afflicted 
with  the  same  deformity,  having  got  wind  of  this  story, 
intrudes  upon  them,  and  offers  a new  addition  to  their 
song  in 

Y Domingo,  siete.^ 

Indignant  at  the  breach  of  rhythm,  or  at  the  mention 

^ Monday  and  Tuesday  and  Wednesday,  three. 

Thursday  and  Friday  and  Saturday,  six. 

^ And  the  Lord’s  Day,  seven. 


364 


POPULAK  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


of  the  Lord’s  Day,  which  is  a tender  subject  with 
fairies,^  they  seize  the  intruder,  and  according  to 
received  genii-practice,  overwhelm  him  with  a shower 
of  blows,  and  send  him  off  with  his  neighbour’s  hump 
in  addition  to  his  own.  Hence  ''  Y Domingo,  siete  ” is 
a common  Spanish  comment  upon  anything  which  is 
said  or  done  mal-dj-propos. 

The  following  Breton  story — cited  by  Keightley  in 
his  'Fairy  Mythology’  (1850),  from  an  article  in  a 
work  entitled  'Tracts  for  the  People’ — presents  sev- 
eral points  of  resemblance  to  the  Italian  and  Irish 
versions : 

The  valley  of  Goel  was  a celebrated  haunt  of  the 
korred  \i,e.,  fairies].  It  was  thought  dangerous  to 
pass  through  it  at  night,  lest  one  should  be  forced  to 
join  in  their  dances,  and  thus  perhaps  lose  his  life. 
One  evening,  however,  a peasant  and  his  wife  thought- 
lessly did  so,  and  they  soon  found  themselves  sur- 
rounded by  dancing  sprites,  who  kept  singing — 

Lez  y,  lez  hon, 

Bas  an  arer  zo  gant  hon  ; 

Lez  on,  lez  y, 

Bas  an  arer  zo  gant  y.^ 

It  seems  the  man  had  in  his  hand  the  fourche,  or  short 

^ In  the  Italian  version,  however,  the  fairies  themselves  chant 
“ Domenica.” 

2 Let  him  go,  let  him  go. 

For  he  has  the  wand  of  the  plough  ; 

Let  her  go,  let  her  go. 

For  she  has  the  wand  of  the  plough. 


THE  HUNCHBACK  AND  THE  FAIRIES. 


365 


stick  which  is  used  as  a plough-handle  in  Brittany, 
and  this  was  a protection,  for  the  dancers  made  way 
for  them  to  go  out  of  the  ring. 

When  this  became  known,  many  persons,  having 
fortified  themselves  with  a fourche,  gratified  their 
curiosity  by  witnessing  the  dance  of  the  korred. 
Among  the  rest  were  two  tailors,  Peric  and  Jean, 
who,  being  merry  fellows,  dared  each  other  to  join 
in  the  dance.  They  drew  lots,  and  the  lot  fell  upon 
Peric,  a hump-backed,  red-haired,  but  bold  and  stout 
little  fellow.  He  went  up  to  the  korred  and  asked 
permission  to  take  share  in  their  dance.  They 
granted  it,  and  all  went  whirling  round  and  round, 
singing — 

Dilun,  Dimeurs,  Dimerc’her.^ 

Peric,  weary  of  the  monotony,  when  there  was  a slight 
pause  at  the  last  word,  added — 

Ha  Diriaou,  ha  Digwener.^ 

Mat ! mat ! ’’  (good  ! good !)  cried  they,  and  gathering 
round  him,  they  offered  him  his  choice  of  beauty,  or 
rank,  or  riches.  He  laughed,  and  only  asked  them  to 
remove  his  hump  and  change  the  colour  of  his  hair. 
They  forthwith  took  hold  of  him,  and  tossed  him  up 
into  the  air,  throwing  him  from  hand  to  hand  till  at 
last  he  lighted  on  his  feet  with  a flat  back,  and  fine 
long  black  hair. 

When  Jean  saw  and  heard  of  the  change,  he  re- 

^ Monday,  Tuesday,  Wednesday. 

^ And  Thursday,  and  Friday. 


366 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


solved  to  try  what  he  could  get  from  the  potent 
korred;  so  a few  evenings  after  he  went  and  was 
admitted  to  the  dance,  which  now  went  to  the  words 
as  enlarged  by  Peric.  To  make  his  addition,  he 
shouted  out — 

Ha  Disadarn,  ha  Disul.^ 

''  What  more  ? what  more  ? cried  the  korred,  but  he 
only  went  on  repeating  the  words.  They  then  asked 
him  what  he  would  have,  and  he  replied,  riches.  They 
tossed  him  up  and  kept  bandying  him  about  till  he 
cried  for  mercy,  and  on  coming  to  the  ground  he  found 
he  had  got  Peric’s  hump  and  red  hair. 

It  appears  that  the  korred  were  condemned  to  this 
continual  dancing,  which  was  never  to  cease  till  a 
mortal  should  join  in  their  dance ; and  after  naming 
all  the  days  of  the  week,  should  add,  Ha  cetu  chu  er 
sizum  ’’  (and  now  the  week  is  ended).  They  punished 
Jean  for  coming  so  near  the  end,  and  then  disappoint- 
ing them. 


In  a version  from  Amiens,  given  by  M.  Henri 
Carnoy  in  'Melusine’  (1878),^  tome  i.,  c.  241,  we  find 
a curious  variant  of  the  Slav  and  Chinese  stories 
of  Hospitality  Eewarded — see  ante,  pages  102-7 : A 
peasant  woman,  while  engaged  collecting  dead  wood 

^ And  Saturday,  and  Sunday. 

2 ‘ Melusine  : revue  de  mythologie,  litterature  populaire,  traditions, 
et  usages ; dirig^e  par  H.  Gaidoz  et  E.  Rolland.’ — The  publication  of 
this  excellent  journal,  after  having  been  discontinued  for  six  years, 
was  resumed  in  1885.  It  would  be  difficult  to  over-rate  its  value  to 
story-comparers. 


THE  HUNCHBACK  AND  THE  FAIEIES. 


367 


in  a forest,  comes  upon  three  fairies  dancing  and 
chanting — 

Dimanche,  lundi, 

Apres  mardi, 

Ensuite  mercredi, 

Avec  jeudid 

She  joined  in  the  dance,  and  chimed  in — 

Yendredi,  samedi, 

La  semaine  est  fini, 

Dieu  Ta  dit.^ 

“What  you’ll  do  to-morrow  on  rising,”  said  one  of 
the  fairies,  “ you’ll  do  the  whole  day.  That  is  the 
reward  which  we  accord  you  for  having  finished  our 
song.” 

Next  morning  when  she  arose,  thinking  little  of 
what  the  fairies  had  said,  her  husband  asked  her  for 
two  sous  to  get  some  beer.  She  put  her  hand  in  her 
pocket,  and  was  astonished  to  find  it  full  of  money ; 
and  she  continued  from  morning  till  night  taking 
money  out  of  her  pocket.  A neighbour,  whom  she 
had  called  in  to  help  her  to  count  her  treasure,  learns 
from  her  the  secret  of  her  great  luck,  and  goes  off  to 
the  wood,  where  she  discovers  the  fairies  and  joins  in 
their  dance,  and  adds  to  their  chant  the  same  refrain 
as  her  gossip  had  done.  The  fairies  also  promise  her 
that  what  she’d  do  in  the  morning  she’d  do  all  the 
day.  Eeturning  home,  she  slipped  a six-sous  piece  into 

^ Sunday,  Monday,  after  Tuesday,  follows  Wednesday,  with 
Thursday. 

2 Friday,  Saturday,  the  week  is  ended,  God  says  it. 


368 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


her  pocket,  expecting  to  take  out  a large  quantity  of 
similar  coins  on  the  morrow.  But  alas  ! so  soon  as 
she  arose  in  the  morning  she  found  it  necessary  to 
relieve  nature,  and  so  she  continued  doing  all  that 
day. 

Mr  Ealston,  in  an  interesting  paper  on  Sicilian 
Fairy  Tales  in  'Fraser’s  Magazine’  for  April  1876, 
cites  a somewhat  singular  version  from  Dr  Pitre’s 
collection : ^ A hunchbacked  shoemaker  once  passed 
a night  in  a haunted  house.  At  midnight  down 
dropped  from  the  ceiling  of  the  room  in  which  he 
kept  watch  quattru  pupi — four  puppets,^  who  began 
to  sing — 

Luni,  Marti,  Miercuri,  Juovidi,  Venn  ire,  e Sabutu 

Hearing  this,  the  hunchback  lifted  up  his  voice  and 
joined  harmoniously  in  the  song.  Delighted  to  find 
he  was  not  frightened,  they  took  off  his  hump  and 
hung  it  upon  the  wall.  Before  the  day  dawned  they 
disappeared.  Great  was  the  astonishment  of  the 
neighbours,  when  they  came  in  the  morning  to  see 
how  the  shoemaker  had  fared  at  the  hands  of  li  diavuli, 
to  find  him  happy  and  humpless. 

Now  there  was  among  them  an  old  woman  who  had 
a hump  larger  than  his  had  been,  and  when  she  had 

^ ‘ Fiabe,  novelle,  e racconti  popolari  siciliani.’  Raccolti  ed  illus- 
trati  da  Giuseppe  Pitre.  Palermo,  1875. 

2 Enchanted  puppets  are  a striking  characteristic  of  Sicilian  folk- 
tales ; they  occur  seldom  in  Northern  fictions. 

2 Monday,  Tuesday,  Wednesday,  Thursday,  Friday,  and  Saturday. 


THE  HUNCHBACK  AND  THE  FAIIIIES.  369 

heard  his  story  she  determined  to  try  her  luck  with 
the  diavuli.  So  next  night  she  kept  watch  in  the 
haunted  house.  At  midnight  appeared  the  'pupi,  and 
began  to  sing  as  before.  The  old  woman  joined  in  the 
song,  but  very  badly ; and  the  puppets,  seeing  that  she 
was  not  inclined  to  sing  cheerfully,  took  down  the 
shoemaker’s  hump  from  the  wall  and  fastened  it  on  to 
her  breast.  So  she  had  a couple  of  them,  one  before 
and  one  behind,  and  the  sight  of  her  next  day  made 
the  neighbours  right  cheerful. 

Another  adventure  with  the  fairies  is  the  subject  of 
a Breton  ballad : One  Friday  night,  Paskou,  a tailor 
out  of  work,  enters  a fairy  grotto,  digs  up  a crock  of 
treasure,  and  makes  off  with  it,  pursued  by  the  korred 
right  into  his  courtyard,  dancing  and  singing  full 
lustily,  ''Monday,  Tuesday,  Wednesday,  and  Thursday 
and  Friday.”  Finding  the  door  shut,  they  clamber  on 
to  the  roof,  break  a hole  in  it,  through  which  they  get 
into  the  house,  where  they  resume  their  dance  and 
song,  calling  out  to  poor  Paskou,  who  lies  trembling 
under  the  bed-clothes — 

Hilloa  ! tailor,  Master  Snip  ! 

Show  us  but  your  nose’s  tip  ; — 

Come,  let’s  have  a dancing  bout, 

We  will  teach  you  step  and  shout ! 

Tailor — little  tailor,  dear, 

Monday,  Tuesday,  Wednesday — hear  ! 

Tailor  thou,  and  robber  too, 

Wednesday,  Thursday,  Friday,  too  ! 

2 A 


VOL.  I. 


370 


POPULAK  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


Come  again — come  back  to  us, 

Little  tailor  villainous  ! 

You  shall  dance  until  you  crack 
Every  sinew  in  your  back  ; — 

Fairies^  coin  doth  virtue  lack  ! 

If  Paskou  had  but  had  enough  sense  to  complete 
their  song,  by  adding  “ and  Saturday,’’  no  doubt  all  had 
been  well ; as  it  was,  his  stolen  treasure  was  turned 
into  stones,  like  the  gold  of  the  blacksmith  in  the 
German  story.  In  another  version  the  thief  is  a 
baker,  who,  with  more  cunning  than  the  tailor,  strews 
hot  ashes  round  his  house,  so  that  when  the  fairies 
come,  they  scorch  their  feet,  for  which  indignity,  how- 
ever^ they  take  ample  vengeance  by  breaking  all  his 
pans  and  ovens.^ 

We  have  thus  seen  that  the  story  of  the  hunchbacks 
and  the  fairies  is  known  over  Europe ; and  among  the 
Japanese  it  is  current  in  a form  which  strikingly  re- 
sembles the  first  French  version,  and  which  is  given  as 
follows  by  Mr  Mitford,  in  his  entertaining  ‘ Tales  of 
Old  J apan,’  under  the  title  of  ''  The  Elves  and  the 
Envious  Neighbour”: 

Once  upon  a time  there  was  a certain  man  who, 
being  overtaken  by  darkness  among  the  mountains, 
was  driven  to  seek  shelter  in  the  hollow  trunk 
of  a tree.  In  the  middle  of  the  night  a large 
company  of  elves  assembled  at  the  spot ; and  the 
man,  on  peeping  from  his  hiding-place,  was  fright- 
1 ‘ Foreign  Quarterly  Keview,’  1844,  vol.  xxxiii.,  pp.  171-3. 


THE  HUNCHBACK  AND  THE  FAIRIES. 


371 


ened  out  of  his  wits.  After  a while,  however,  the 
elves  began  to  feast  and  drink  wine,  and  to  amuse 
themselves  by  singing  and  dancing,  until  at  last  the 
man,  caught  by  the  infection  of  the  fun,  forgot  all  his 
fears,  and  crept  out  of  his  hollow  tree  to  join  in  the 
revels.  When  the  day  was  about  to  dawn,  the  elves 
said  to  him,  “You’re  a very  jolly  companion,  and 
must  come  out  and  have  a dance  with  us  again.  You 
must  make  us  a promise  and  keep  it.”  So  the  elves, 
thinking  to  bind  the  man  over  to  return,  took  a large 
wen  that  grew  upon  his  forehead,  and  kept  it  in  pawn  ; 
upon  this  they  all  left  the  place  and  went  home.  The 
man  walked  off  to  his  own  house,  in  high  glee  at 
having  passed  a jovial  night  and  got  rid  of  his  wen 
into  the  bargain.  So  he  told  all  his  friends,  who 
congratulated  him  warmly  on  being  cured  of  his  wen. 
But  there  was  a neighbour  of  his  who  was  also  troubled 
with  a wen  of  long  standing,  and  when  he  heard  of  his 
friend’s  luck,  he  was  smitten  with  envy,  and  went  off 
to  hunt  for  the  hollow  tree,  in  which,  when  he  found  it, 
he  passed  the  night.  Towards  midnight  the  elves 
came,  as  he  had  expected,  and  began  feasting  and 
drinking,  with  songs  and  dances,  as  before.  When 
he  saw  this,  he  came  out  of  his  hollow  tree,  and 
began  dancing  and  singing,  as  his  neighbour  had  done. 
The  elves,  mistaking  him  for  their  former  boon  com- 
panion, were  delighted  to  see  him,  and  said,  “ You’re 
a good  fellow  to  recollect  your  promise,  and  we’ll  give 
you  back  your  pledge.”  So  one  of  the  elves,  pulling 
the  pawned  wen  out  of  his  pocket,  stuck  it  on  the 


372 


POPULAK  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


man’s  forehead,  on  the  top  of  the  other  wen  which  he 
already  had.  And  so  the  envious  neighbour  went 
home  weeping,  with  two  wens  instead  of  one. 

It  will  be  observed  that  the  only  difference  between 
the  Japanese  story  and  the  first  French  version  is, 
that  in  the  former  the  elves  do  not  increase  the 
envious  man’s  protuberance  in  anger.  The  result  is 
the  same  in  all  the  numerous  versions  above  cited. 


373 


THE  ENCHANTED  HORSE. 

rpHE  civilising  influence  of  the  Moors  is  still  traceable 
in  the  manners  and  customs,  the  literature  and 
arts,  of  Spain.  From  Moorish  sources  the  Spanish 
romances  of  chivalry  were  largely  derived,  and  from 
Spain  tales  and  fictions,  originally  imported  from  the 
East,  spread  into  France,  furnishing  rich  materials  for 
many  fabliaux  of  the  Trouveres.  In  the  thirteenth 
century  a French  poet,  named  Adans,  or  Adfenis,  styled 
Le  Eoi,  from  his  position  as  chief  of  the  minstrels, 
composed,  in  honour  of  the  Princess  Mary  of  Brabant, 
on  her  becoming  queen  of  France,  a romaunt  in  verse, 
entitled  ‘ Cleomades,’  of  which  Count  Tressan  published 
extrait  in  the 'Bibliotheque  Universelle  des  Eomans.’ 
This  work  was  originally  written  in  Spanish  verse,  and 
afterwards  rendered  into  p^se,  French  as  well  as 
Spanish.  Its  Eastern  extraction  is  unquestionable,  and 
it  was  probably  brought  h^he  Moors  to  Spain  in  the 
eleventh  or  twelfth ; ii^tury.  Another  title  of  the 
French  metrical  versioh  of  this  romance  is  ' Le  Cheval 
de  Fust’  (the  Wooden  Horse),  from  the  important  part 


374 


POPULAK  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


which  a steed  of  that  description  plays  in  it — in  fact, 
it  is  the  tale  of  the  Enchanted  Horse  in  the  ' Arabian 
Nights,’  though  there  is  reason  to  believe  that  that 
fascinating  story-book  was  not  then  composed,  at  least 
in  its  present  form. 

The  story  seems  to  have  spread  rapidly  over  Europe. 
Chaucer  introduces  the  Magic  Horse  in  his  Squire’s 
Tale — the  ''  half-told  tale  of  Cambuscan  bold ; ” but  in 
place  of  a wooden  steed  it  is  (quoth  Milton)  “ a won- 
drous horse  of  brass,  on  which  the  Tartar  king  did  ride.” 
The  qualities  of  this  steed  are  thus  described  by  the 
ambassador  who  presented  it  in  his  royal  master's 
name  to  Cambynskan,^  seated  on  his  throne  and  sur- 
rounded by  “ all  his  liege  men  so  noble  of  birth  ” : 

He  saide  : The  King  of  Araby  and  Inde, 

My  liege  lord,  on  this  solempne  ^ day 
Salewith^  you  as  he  best  can  or  may, 

And  sendith  you,  in  honour  of  your  feste. 

By  me,  that  am  redy  at  al  your  heste, 

This  Stede  of  Brass,  that  esily  and  well 
Can  in  the  space  of  a day  naturell. 

That  is  to  say,  in  four  and  twenty  hours. 

Where  so  you  liste,^  in  droughte  or  in  shours, 

Berin  your  body  into  every  place 
Into  which  your  herte  willith  to  pace, 

Withoutin  wem^  of  you,  through  foule  or  faire ; 

Or  if  you  list  to  flein  in  the  aire 
As  doth  an  Egle,  whan  him  list  to  sore. 

This  same  stede  shall  here  you  evirmore, 

Withoutin  harme,  till  you  hen  there  you  lest. 

Though  that  you  slepin  on  his  bak  and  rest, 

1 Not  Cambuscan,  as  Milton  writes  the  name. 

2 Solempne : solemn  ; important.  ^ Salueth  : salutes. 

^ LisU:  please;  choose.  ^ Wem:  harm;  risk;  danger. 


THE  ENCHANTED  HORSE. 


375 


And  toiirn  agen  with  writhing  of  a pin. 

He  that  it  wrought  couth  full  many  a gin 
He  waited  many  a constellation, ^ 

Ere  he  had  don  this  operation, 

And  knew  ful  many  sele  and  many  bond. 
****** 

And  aftir  supper  goth  this  nobill  king 
To  sene  this  Horse  of  Brass,  with  all  his  rout 
Of  lordis  and  of  ladies  him  about. 

Soch  wondring  there  was  on  this  Horse  of  Brass, 
That  sithin^  the  grete  siege  of  Troye  was, 

There  as  men  wondrid  on  an  horse  also, 

Ne  was  there  such  a wondrin  as  was  tho.^ 

But  finally  the  king  askith  the  knight 
The  vertue  of  this  coursere  and  the  might. 

And  prayid  him  to  tell  its  governaunce. 

The  horse  anon  gan  forth  to  trip  and  daunce, 
Whan  that  this  knight  laid  hold  upon  his  reine, 
And  seide.  Sir,  there  is  no  more  to  seine, 

But  when  you  list  to  ridin  anywhere. 

You  mote^  trill  a pin  stant  in  his  ere. 

Which  I shall  tellin  you  between  us  two, 

Ye  mote  nempne’  ® him  to  what  place  also. 

Or  to  what  contre,  that  you  list  to  ride. 

But  when  you  come  there  as  you  list  B abide, 
Bid  him  descend,  and  trill  anothir  pin 
(For  therin  lyth  th’  effect  of  all  that  gin). 

And  he  wol  down  descend,  and  don  your  will, 
And  in  that  place  he  woll  abidin  still, 

Though  all  the  world  had  the  contrary  sworne. 
He  shall  not  thennis^  be  thro  win,  ne  borne. 


^ He  that  made  it  knew  full  many  an  ingenious  contrivance. 

2 He  observed  the  motions  of  the  heavenly  bodies  until  a certain 
conjunction,  a lucky  hour  arrived,  which  enabled  him  to  endow  it  with 
the  required  magical  qualities. 

^ Sithin:  since.  ^ Tho:  then.  ® Moth:  must. 

® Nem'pne^ : name.  ^ Thennis : thence. 


376 


POPULAK  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


Or  if  you  listin  bid  bim  thennis  gone, 

Trill  this  pin,  and  he  woll  vanish  anon 
Out  of  the  sight  of  every  mannere  wight. 

And  come  agen,  be  it  by  day  or  night. 

Whan  that  you  list  to  clepin  ^ him  agene. 

In  soch  a gise,  as  I shall  to  you  seine, 

Betwixtin  you  and  me,  and  that  full  sone ; 

Eide  when  you  list,  there  is  no  more  to  done. 

Chaucer,  apparently,  did  not  finish  the  story,  or  if  he 
did  so,  the  greater  part  of  it  is  now  lost.  So  far  as  it 
goes,  it  has  the  elements  of  a charming  tale ; — the  magic 
horse ; the  mirror  that  foreshadowed  coming  evil ; the 
ring  that  enabled  the  wearer  to  understand  the  language 
of  birds;  and  the  sword  that  cured  wounds  which 
itself  had  made.^  Very  probably  the  Tartar  king’s 
younger  son  Camballo  had  an  adventure  with  the 
''  steed  of  brass  ” similar  to  that  of  the  bold  Cleomades, 
who  wooed  and  won  the  fair  Claremonde,  daughter  of 
Cornuant,  king  of  Tuscany,  as  related  in  the  old 
Hispano-French  romaunt,  and  to  that  of  the  prince 
in  the  Arabian  tale.^ 

^ Clepin : call. 

2 The  magic  mirror  may  be  compared  with  the  ivory  tube  in  the 
Arabian  story  of  Prince  Ahmed  and  the  Peri  B^nu.  Many  Asiatic 
tales  turn  upon  a knowledge  of  the  language  of  birds  and  beasts,  which 
Solomon  the  sage  Hebrew  king  is  said  to  have  possessed  in  the  high- 
est degree.  Chaucer  may  have  derived  the  idea  of  the  magic  sword 
from  the  legendary  spear  of  Telephus. 

^ In  the  romance  of  Cleomades,  three  great  princes  arrive  at  Seville 
as  suitors  for  the  three  daughters  of  King  Marchabias.  They  were 
not  only  powerful  monarchs,  but  were  deeply  versed  in  astronomy, 
and  well  skilled  in  the  art  of  magic.  One  was  Melicandus,  king  of 
Barbary  ; the  second  was  Bardigans,  king  of  Armenia  ; the  third, 
whose  name  was  Croppart,  was  king  of  Hungary.  This  last  was  ugly 


THE  ENCHANTED  HOESE. 


377 


The  Polish  wizard  Towardowski  in  later  times  is 
popularly  credited  with  riding  on  a painted  horse 
of  his  own  contrivance,  which  carried  him  through 
the  air  wheresoever  he  wished  to  go.  But  our  own 
country  can  boast  of  a wizard  as  good — or  bad — as 
Towardowski.  Leland,  in  his  Itinerary,  informs  us 
that  in  ancient  times  one  Butter,  '‘a  man  in  great 
favour  with  his  prince,  desired  to  have  reward  of  him 
of  as  much  land  as  he  could  ride  over  in  a day  upon  a 
horse  of  wood;  and  he  did  ride  over  as  much  as  is 
now  Eutlandshire  by  art-magic,  and  was  afterwards 
swallowed  into  the  earth.”  The  usual  fate  of  magi- 

and  hump-backed  ; his  soul  was  as  deformed  as  his  body,  and  his 
tongue  was  pregnant  with  falsehood.  These  three  kings  had  met 
together  before  they  set  out  for  Seville,  and  had  agreed  that  each 
should  give  such  a present  to  the  king  and  queen  as  would  entitle  him 
to  ask  a gift  in  return.  On  their  arrival  they  were  received  with  all 
becoming  honours.  King  Melicandus  presented  the  royal  pair  with  a 
man  of  gold,  who  held  in  his  hand  a trumpet  formed  of  the  same 
metal,  made  with  so  much  art,  that  if  treason  lurked  even  within  a 
considerable  distance  of  him,  he  put  the  trumpet  to  his  mouth  and 
blew  a loud  and  piercing  blast.  King  Bardigans  presented  a hen  and 
six  chickens  of  gold,  so  skilfully  formed  that  they  seemed  to  be  alive. 
He  placed  them  on  the  ground  and  they  instantly  began  to  run  about, 
to  peck,  and  to  clap  their  wings.  The  hen  flew  up  on  the  queen’s 
knee,  cackled,  and  laid  a flne  pearl  in  her  lap.  “ She  will  do  the  same 
every  third  day,”  said  Bardigans.  All  present  were  lost  in  admiration 
of  these  wonderful  gifts.  King  Croppart  now  came  forward  with  a 
large  wooden  horse,  magnificently  caparisoned,  with  pins  of  steel  on 
his  head  and  shoulders.  “ Sire,”  said  he,  in  a harsh  and  discordant 
voice,  “ with  the  horse  which  I offer  you,  one  may  mount  in  the  air, 
cross  the  seas,  and  travel  at  the  rate  of  fifty  leagues  an  hour.”  There 
can  be  little  doubt  that  Cervantes  borrowed  the  idea  of  the  famous 
steed  Clavileho  Aligero  (‘‘Wooden-pin  Wing-bearer”),  which  figures 
so  ludicrously  in  ‘Don  Quixote,’  from  the  Spanish  version  of  this 
romance,  not,  as  he  seems  to  hint,  from  that  of  Peter  of  Provence 
and  the  Fair  Magalona,  in  which  there  is  no  such  magic  horse. 


378 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


cians  is  to  come  to  a violent  end.  The  Polish  wizard 
aforesaid  was  carried  up  the  chimney  by  the  arch- 
fiend when  his  ''time”  was  come. 

There  is  reason  to  think  that  the  Arabian  tale  of  the 
Enchanted  Horse  was  derived  from  the  Persians,  who, 
in  their  turn,  may  have  adopted  the  idea  of  such  a 
steed  from  Indian  fiction.  The  story  of  Malik  and 
Shirin  in  the  Persian  Tales  of  a Thousand  and  One  Days, 
ascribed  to  the  Dervish  Mukhlis  of  Ispahan,  in  which 
a flying-machine  plays  a leading  part,  and  that  of  the 
Labourer  and  the  Flying  Chair  in  Jonathan  Scott’s 
'Tales  from  the  Arabic,’ i are  certainly  clumsy  sub- 
stitutes, as  Dr  H.  H.  Wilson  has  remarked,  for  the 
original  Indian  fiction,  in  which  an  adventurer,  in  love 
with  a princess,  personates  the  deity  Vishnu,  and  ap- 
propriately rides  on  a wooden  effigy  of  Garuda,  guided 
by  a pin  and  moving  by  magic  ^ — the  prototype  of  the 
Enchanted  Horse  of  the  Arabian  tale,  and  of  other  self- 
moving  machines  of  celebrity  in  oriental  and  chivalric 
romance. 

Sir  Eichard  F.  Burton,  however,  says  that  the  flying 
horse  of  the  ' Arabian  Nights  ’ " is  Pegasus,  which  is  a 
Greek  travesty  of  an  Egyptian  myth,  developed  in 

^ Translated  from  a fragment  of  an  Arabic  manuscript  of  the 
‘ Thousand  and  One  Nights,’  procured  in  Bengal.  The  story  of  the 
Flying  Chair  does  not  occur  in  any  of  the  three  printed  texts  of  the 
‘ Nights,’ — the  Bdlak,  Breslau,  and  Calcutta. 

^ ^ Pancha  Tantra,’  Book  I,  Fable  5. — Garuda,  the  vehicle  of  Vishnu, 
is  represented  as  half-man,  half -bird  ; having  the  head,  wings,  talons, 
and  beak  of  the  eagle,  and  the  body  and  limbs  of  a man  ; his  face  is 
white,  his  wings  red,  and  his  body  golden. 


THE  ENCHANTED  HOUSE. 


379 


India.”  If  this  be  so,  we  must  consider  the  wooden 
Garuda  (which  reappears  in  the  Kalmuk  tales  of 
Siddhi  Kiir  — see  anU,  p.  281)  as  an  Indian  “de- 
velopment ” of  the  Egyptian  myth,  and  also  the  en- 
chanted horse  referred  to  in  connection  with  Forbidden 
Eooms  (p.  201),  together  with  its  Arabian  imitation 
in  the  story  of  the  Third  Calender.  It  is  a popular 
belief  among  the  Singalese  that  in  the  country  of  the 
Himalayas,  the  land  of  wonders,  there  are  horses  and 
elephants  which  possess  the  power  of  flying  through 
the  air.^ 

But  more  simple  things  than  wooden  horses  have 
been  endowed  with  self-moving  powers  by  “ art-magic  ” 
in  times  of  old : for  instance,  the  pestle,  in  Lucian’s 
' Philopseudes  ’ (‘  The  Liars  ’ in  Erancklin’s  translation), 
which  Pancrates,  in  want  of  a servant,  caused  to  fetch 
water  and  perform  other  useful  domestic  duties.  When 
the  Egyptian  sorcerer  was  absent  one  day,  his  pupil 
tried  to  perform  the  trick ; but  he  did  not  know  the 
charm  for  stopping  the  water-carrying  pestle,  and  the 
house  was  soon  flooded.  In  despair,  he  chopped  the 
pestle  in  two  with  an  axe ; but  this  only  made  matters 
worse,  for  both  halves  then  set  to  work  to  bring  water. 
This  incident  has  been  versifled  by  Goethe,  and  also 
by  Barham  in  his  ^ Ingoldsby  Legends.’  It  reappears, 
under  the  title  of  “ The  Master  and  his  Pupil ; or,  the 
Magic  Book,”  in  Dr  A.  C.  Fryer’s  ' English  Fairy  Tales 
from  the  North  Country.’  And  with  it  may  be  com- 
^ See  Davy’s  ‘ Ceylon,’  p.  197. 


380 


POPULAE  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


pared  the  conclusion  of  the  Norwegian  tale  of  the 
Magic  Quern  {ante,  p.  121),  which  two  of  its  posses- 
sors did  not  know  how  to  stop. 

In  the  ' Katha  Sarit  Sagara  ’ we  read  of  a demi- 
goddess  who  had  mechanical  dolls  made  of  wood  and 
magically  endowed.  One  of  these,  on  a pin  in  it  being 
turned,  went  through  the  air  at  her  orders,  fetched  a 
garland  of  flowers,  and  quickly  returned;  another 
brought  water  at  will ; another  danced ; and  yet 
another  conversed.  It  is  curious  to  And  the  magic 
pestle  of  Lucian’s  story  reproduced  in  the  Edinburgh 
tradition  of  one  Major  Weir,  who  had  the  unenviable 
reputation  of  being  a wizard,  and  after  his  death,  at 
the  stake,  his  house  long  remained  unoccupied  : the 
major’s  walking-stick,  it  seems,  answered  the  purpose 
of  a man-servant,  opening  the  door  to  visitors,  and 
even  going  to  the  tobacconist’s  to  procure  snuff  for 
its  master ! 


381 


THE  DEMON  ENCLOSED  IN  A BOTTLE:  CONTRACTS 
WITH  THE  EVIL  ONE,  ETC. 

T^EW  readers,  I presume,  are  unfamiliar  with  the 
Arabian  tale  of  the  Fisherman  and  the  Genii, 
whom  the  poor  man  fished  up  in  his  net,  confined  in 
a copper  vessel  by  the  power  of  Solomon’s  magical 
signet;  how  the  genii,  having  been  unwittingly  re- 
leased by  the  fisherman,  threatened  to  destroy  his 
liberator,  and  the  latter  adopted  a clever  plan  to 
entrap  the  ungrateful  monster  once  more.  ''How 
wast  thou  in  this  bottle  ? ” asked  the  fisherman.  " It 
will  not  contain  thy  hand  or  thy  foot ; how  then  can 
it  contain  thy  body  ? ” " Dost  thou  not  believe  that 

I was  in  it  ? ” answered  the  genii.  The  fisherman 
said,  "I  will  never  believe  thee  until  I see  thee  in 
it.”  Upon  this  the  genii  shook,  and  became  con- 
densed, and  entered  the  bottle  by  little  and  little, 
until  he  was  all  enclosed. 

This  idea  of  a demon  being  confined  in  a bottle 
is  derived  from  a Muslim  legend,  adapted  from  the 
Talmud,  regarding  the  loss  and  recovery  of  Solomon’s 


382 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


signet -ring.  According  to  the  Talmudic  , legend, 
when  the  building  of  the  Temple  was  finished,  the 
king  of  the  Demons  begged  Solomon  to  set  him  free 
from  his  service,  and  promised  in  return  to  teach  him 
a secret  he  would  be  sure  to  value.  Having  cajoled 
Solomon  out  of  possession  of  his  signet-ring,  he  first 
fiung  the  ring  into  the  sea,  and  then  taking  up 
Solomon  himself,  cast  him  into  a foreign  land  some 
400  miles  away,  where  for  three  weary  years  he 
wandered  up  and  down  as  a vagrant,  begging  his 
bread  from  door  to  door.  In  the  course  of  his 
rambles  he  came  to  Mash  Kernin,  and  was  so  for- 
tunate as  to  be  appointed  head- cook  at  the  palace 
of  the  king  of  Ammon.  While  employed  in  this 
office,  Naama,  the  king’s  daughter,  fell  in  love  with 
him,  and  determining  to  marry  him,  eloped  with  him 
for  refuge  to  a distant  land.  One  day,  as  Haama  was 
preparing  a fish  for  dinner,  she  found  in  it  a ring, 
and  this  turned  out  to  be  the  very  ring  which  the 
king  of  the  Demons  had  fiung  into  the  sea,  and  the 
loss  of  which  had  bewitched  the  king  out  of  his 
power  and  dominion.  In  the  recovery  of  the  ring 
the  king  recovered  both  himself  and  the  throne  of 
his  father  David. 

The  Muhammedan  traditionists  give  the  tale  with 
several  curious  additions,  including  the  Demon  in 
the  Bottle.  After  Solomon  had  obtained  possession 
of  his  celebrated  magical  signet-ring,  in  which  were 
four  jewels  presented  to  him  by  the  lords  of  the 
heavens,  the  air,  earth,  and  water,  he  first  subdued 


THE  DEMON  IN  A BOTTLE. 


383 


the  demons  and  genii,  all  but  Iblis  (Satan),  to  whom 
Allah  had  promised  perfect  independence  till  the  day 
of  judgment,  and  the  mighty  demon  Sakhr,  who  was 
concealed  in  an  unknown  island  of  the  ocean.  It 
happened  that  Solomon,  in  one  of  his  wars  against 
an  idolatrous  nation,  had  taken  captive  the  beautiful 
daughter  of  the  king;  and  on  his  return  to  Jerusalem 
he  placed  her  in  his  harem,  where  she  soon  acquired 
such  ascendancy  over  him  that  he  worshipped  her 
false  gods,  for  which  great  sin  he  was  sorely  punished. 
One  day,  before  going  to  the  bath,  he  intrusted  his 
signet-ring  to  the  care  of  his  pagan  concubine,  which 
being  observed  by  the  demon  Sakhr,  who  was  hover- 
ing about  the  harem  unseen,  he  at  once  assumed  the 
form  of  Solomon,  and  thus  obtained  the  ring  from  the 
lady.  Solomon’s  features,  it  seems,  had  in  the  mean- 
time undergone  such  a metamorphosis  that  his  cour- 
tiers did  not  recognise  him,  and  drove  him  from  the 
palace  with  every  mark  of  indignity ; and  while  Sakhr 
sat  on  the  throne,  doing  all  kinds  of  wickedness,  the 
sage  king  of  Israel,  after  wandering  through  foreign 
lands,  took  service  with  a fisherman.  At  length  the 
conduct  of  Sakhr — so  unlike  the  mild  and  beneficent 
rule  of  the  real  Solomon — aroused  the  suspicion  of 
the  royal  counsellors  that  he  must  be  an  evil  spirit 
who  had  assumed  the  form  of  their  beloved  monarch ; 
and  it  was  resolved  to  put  him  to  the  test,  by  reading 
in  his  presence  some  passages  of  the  book  of  the  law. 
Barely  had  the  sacred  scroll  been  opened,  and  the 
reading  begun,  when  Sakhr,  uttering  loud  shrieks. 


384 


POPULAK  . TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


flew  out  of  the  palace,  and,  after  throwing  the  magical 
signet  into  the  sea,  was  seen  no  more.  Not  long  after 
this  occurrence,  Solomon,  having  received  from  his 
master  two  fishes  as  his  day’s  wages,  on  cutting  open 
one  of  them  found  in  its  stomach  his  signet-ring,  and 
was  thus  enabled  to  subdue  the  demon  Sakhr,  whom  he 
compelled  to  enter  into  a copper  vessel,  which,  hav- 
ing sealed  it  with  his  signet-ring,  he  cast  into  the  sea, 
where  the  demon  will  remain  till  the  last  day.^  Muslim 
writers  often  allude  to  this  wonderful  exploit  of  Solo- 
mon. For  instance,  in  the  Persian  poetical  version  of 
the  ‘Book  of  Sindibad’  (a.d.  1375)  we  read:  “By 
predominant  might  he  put  the  demon  in  the  bottle ; 
the  genii  howled  and  whined  on  account  of  him;” 
and  again,  in  the  same  work:  “No  sooner  had  he 
mounted,  than — like  a demon  that  leaps  from  the  bottle 
— like  a lion  rushing  from  the  thicket — the  elephant 
darted  off  with  the  monarch,  and  flew  with  the  speed 
of  lightning  over  hill  and  dale.” 

In  China  the  same  notion  prevails,  as  we  learn  from 
Mr  Giles’  ‘ Strange  Stories  from  a Chinese  Studio,’ 
where  more  than  one  instance  occur  of  dem^ons  being 
enclosed  in  vessels  from  which  they  cannot  escape 
without  external  assistance.  In  the  story,  for  example, 
of  the  Painted  Skin,  a female  demon  hires  herself 
as  maid-of-all-work  in  a certain  family ; but  her  real 


^ The  tale  of  the  Emperor  Jovinian,  ch.  lix.  of  the  ‘Gesta  Roman- 
orum,’  and  that  of  King  Robert  of  Sicily,  reproduced  by  Swan  in  his 
notes  to  the  ‘ Gesta,’  seem  both  to  have  been  derived  from  the  Jewish 
or  the  Muslim  legend  of  Solomon’s  temporary  abasement. 


THE  DEMON  IN  A BOTTLE. 


385 


nature  is  discovered  by  a priest,  who  strikes  her  with 
his  magic  sword,  upon  which  she  falls  down  and  be- 
comes a hideous  devil.  The  priest  then  strikes  off  her 
head,  and  she  becomes  a dense  column  of  smoke  curl- 
ing up  from  the  ground,  when  he  takes  an  uncorked 
gourd  and  throws  it  into  the  midst  of  the  smoke:  a 
sucking  noise  is  heard,  and  the  whole  column  is  drawn 
into  the  gourd;  after  which  the  priest  corks  it  up 
closely,  and  puts  it  in  his  pouch.i 

From  the  Eastern  fabulists,  no  doubt,  European 
story-tellers  derived  this  idea  of  confining  an  imp  or 
demon.  In  the  Norse  tale  of  the  Master- Smith,  the 
hero,  who  had  sold  himself  to  the  devil,  contrives  to 
outwit  the  arch-fiend  by  the  same  device  as  that 
adopted  by  the  fisherman  with  the  genie.  ''  Is  it  true,” 
asks  the  master-smith  of  the  devil,  when  he  came  to 
carry  him  away — “ is  it  true  that  you  can  make  your- 
self as  small  as  you  please  ? ” The  devil  answers  that 

^ In  Icelandic  folk-lore,  the  ‘‘  Sending  ” — a ghost  raised  up  by  sor- 
cery for  the  purpose  of  learning  from  it  the  mysteries  of  the  future 
state,  and  for  sending  it  on  malignant  missions  against  an  enemy — “ is 
sometimes  induced  to  assume  the  form  of  some  small  beast  or  insect, 
either  by  taunts  or  flattery,  and  to  creep  into  a bottle  or  into  an 
empty  marrow-bone  ; and,  once  there,  he  is  corked  up  tight  for  his 
folly.  Sendings  thus  entrapped  are  generally  cast  into  morasses,  or 
stowed  away  in  secret  hiding-places,  where  no  inquisitive  Angers  are 
likely  to  grope.  Woe  betide  him  who,  unsuspecting,  flnds  the  mar- 
row-bone or  bottle  subsequently,  and  uncorks  it  ! The  goblin  gains 
ten  times  his  original  force  by  being  imprisoned,  and  ten  times  his  old 
malignity.  Like  the  genie  in  Solomon’s  lead-sealed  urn,  which  the 
fisherman,  in  the  ‘ Arabian  Nights,’  found  and  opened,  he  is  apt  to 
treat  his  liberator  with  scorn  and  revenge.” — Powell  and  Magnusson’s 
’ Legends  of  Iceland.’  Second  series.  Introd. , p.  Ixxvii. 


386 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


it  is  quite  true,  and  to  gratify  the  curiosity  of  his 
friend/’  creeps  into  the  smith’s  steel  purse,  where  he 
is  confined  until  he  promises  never  to  come  back  any 
more. — In  Grimm’s  ' Kinder  und  Haus  Marchen,’  an 
old  soldier  possesses  a wonderful  knapsack,  into  which 
everything  must  fly  which  he  wishes  there.  He  spends 
a night  in  a castle  haunted  by  nine  demons,  who 
attack  him,  and  endeavour  to  expel  him,  but  he  wishes 
them  all  in  his  knapsack,  and  immediately  they  are 
there  sure  enough.  Next  day,  as  he  trudges  along,  he 
comes  to  a blacksmith’s  shop,  and  placing  his  magical 
knapsack  on  the  anvil,  he  asks  the  smith  and  his  man 
to  strike  it  with  all  their  strength  with  their  great 
hammers.  The  imps  set  up  a fearful  screech,  and 
when  all  was  quiet  the  knapsack  was  opened.  Eight 
of  them  were  found  quite  dead,  but  the  ninth,  who  had 
laid  himself  in  a fold,  was  still  living.  He  slipped 
out  when  the  knapsack  was  opened  and  escaped.” 

This  ludicrous  incident  is  related  in  a different  form 
in  the  Norse  tale  of  the  Lad  and  the  Deil  (Dasent’s 
collection) : Once  on  a time  there  was  a lad  who  was 
walking  along  a road  cracking  nuts,  so  he  found  one 
that  was  worm-eaten,  and  just  at  that  very  moment 
he  met  the  Deil.  Is  it  true  now,”  said  the  lad, 
''what  they  say,  that  the  Deil  can  make  himself  as 
small  as  he  chooses,  and  thrust  himself  in  through  a 
pin-hole  ? ” " Yes,  it  is,”  said  the  Deil.  " Oh,  it  is,  is 

it  ? Then  let  me  see  you  do  it,  and  just  creep  into 
this  nut,”  said  the  lad.  So  the  Deil  did  it.  Now, 
when  he  had  crept  into  the  worm’s  hole,  the  lad 


THE  DEMON  IN  A BOTTLE. 


387 


stopped  it  up  with  a pin.  “ Now  IVe  got  you  safe  I ’’ 
he  said,  and  put  the  nut  into  his  pocket.  So  when 
he  had  walked  on  a bit,  he  came  to  a smithy,  and  he 
turned  in  and  asked  the  smith  if  he’d  be  good  enough 
to  crack  that  nut  for  him.  ''Ay,  that’ll  be  an  easy 
job,”  said  the  smith,  and  took  his  smallest  hammer, 
laid  the  nut  on  the  anvil,  and  gave  it  a blow,  but  it 
wouldn’t  break.  So  he  took  another  hammer,  a little 
bigger,  but  that  wasn’t  heavy  enough  either.  Then 
he  took  one  bigger  still,  but  it  was  still  the  same 
story;  and  so  the  smith  got  wroth,  and  grasped  his 
great  sledge-hammer.  ‘'Now  I’ll  crack  you  to  bits,” 
he  said,  and  let  drive  at  the  nut  with  all  his  might 
and  main.  And  so  the  nut  flew  to  pieces,  with  a loud 
bang  that  blew  off  half  the  roof  of  the  smithy,  and 
the  whole  house  creaked  and  groaned  as  though  it  was 
ready  to  fall.  "Why  ! if  I don’t  think  the  Deil  must 
have  been  in  that  nut ! ” said  the  smith.  " So  he  was  ; 
you’re  quite  right,”  said  the  lad,  as  he  went  away 
laughing. 

In  a Bohemian  version  (No.  21  of  M.  Leger’s  col- 
lection of  Slav  popular  tales),  the  hero  having 
" bagged  ” all  the  demons  who  haunted  a nobleman’s 
castle,  including  Satan  himself,  whom  he  had  beaten  at 
dice,  takes  his  sack  to  a smith’s  shop,  and  after  they 
have  been  well  hammered,  and  promise  never  to  re- 
turn, sets  them  at  liberty.  For  many  years  after  this 
adventure  he  lived  very  happily,  but  at  length  Death 
came  to  fetch  him  away : folk  who  are  happy  do  not 
die  willingly,  however,  so  Death  was  sent  into  the 


388 


POPULAE,  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


sack.  A strange  result  followed;  — people  and  the 
beasts  multiplied  like  the  moss  in  woods ; everybody 
wondered  what  had  become  of  Death ; a great  famine 
occurred,  and  men  shrank  up,  but  did  not  die.  The 
hero  pitied  their  misery,  so  he  allowed  Death  to  go 
about  his  business  again,  after  making  him  swear 
never  to  call  for  him.  In  course  of  time,  however, 
he  got  tired  of  life,  and  set  out  for  heaven.  Arrived 
there,  St.  Peter  refused  to  admit  him,  because  he  had 
preferred,  when  he  had  three  wishes  to  be  granted, 
earthly  wealth  to  the  joys  of  Paradise.  Go  along,”  said 
the  saint,  and  find  those  with  whom  you  played  at 
dice.”  So  he  took  his  way  to  the  nether  regions,  but 
when  he  reached  the  gate  of  the  infernal  city  he  met 
one  of  the  devils  whom  he  had  formerly  put  into  his 
sack,  and  whom  the  smiths  had  so  terribly  mauled 
This  guardian  uttered  the  most  awful  cries,  which 
roused  all  his  brother  devils,  and  they  at  once  doubled 
the  watchmen  at  the  gate,  with  orders  not  to  allow 
the  enemy  to  enter.  What  was  now  to  be  done  ? 
The  hero  was  perplexed.  Finally,  he  returned  to  St. 
Peter,  and  by  dint  of  prayers  and  tears,  the  celestial 
porter  admitted  him — and  he  now  acts  as  Peter’s 
lieutenant. — An  Italian  variant  is  found  in  the  ' Novel- 
lini di  S.  Stefano,’  in  which  the  hero,  Bippo  Pipetta, 
forces  Death  to  enter  his  magic  sack,  and  keeps  him 
there  for  a year  and  a half,  during  which  period  there 
was  great  joy  among  the  doctors,  for  none  of  them  lost 
a patient. 

A prune-tree  is  substituted  for  the  magic  sack  in 


DEATH  AND  THE  OLD  LADY. 


389 


one  of  M.  Carnoy’s  collection  of  French  popular  tales, 
entitled  ^'La  Mort  Jouee,’'  the  substance  of  which  is 
as  follows : In  a village  of  Artois  there  was  an  old 
lady  whose  greatest  pleasure  was  to  relieve  the  dis- 
tressed;— no  beggar  ever  quitted  her  door  without 
some  money  and  white  bread.  One  day  a great  saint 
visited  this  good  dame,  and  told  her  that  he  was  em- 
powered to  grant  her  any  wish  that  she  should  form. 
After  considering  a long  time,  she  said,  ''I  have  a fine 
prune-tree  in  my  garden,  and  wish  that  whosoever 
shall  climb  up  into  it  shall  remain  there  as  long  as  I 
please.’’  ''Your  wish  is  certainly  a very  odd  one,” 
rejoined  the  saint ; " but  so  be  it,”  and  bidding  the  old 
lady  adieu,  he  returned  to  heaven.  Ten  years  after 
this  Death  came  to  the  charitable  dame — she  being 
now,  as  he  reflected,  wellnigh  eighty  years  old ; and 
when  she  saw  him,  " Oh,  is  it  you.  Death  ? ” she  said 
quietly.  " I have  waited  for  you  long,  and  shall  take 
my  departure  without  regret.  But  ah  ! I had  forgot : 
I should  like  to  eat  some  prunes  before  leaving  this 
world.”  So  the  King  of  Terrors  very  obligingly  went 
into  the  garden,  climbed  the  prune-tree,  and  having 
gathered  a quantity  of  prunes,  was  about  to  come  down, 
when  the  old  lady  exclaimed,  "It  is  my  will  that 
Death  shall  not  descend  without  my  permission.”  In 
vain  did  Death  threaten  and  pray  by  turns ; he  could 
not  come  down.  During  six  months  no  one  died. 
The  sick  who  were  racked  with  pain  besought  Death 
to  put  an  end  to  their  misery,  but  Death  was  helpless. 
And  most  unhappy  of  all  were  the  doctors,  who  could 


390 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


not  contrive  to  bring  Death  to  release  their  patients. 
One  of  them,  a great  friend  of  Death,  went  to  help  him 
down  from  the  tree,  but  he  too  was  firmly  fixed  beside 
him ! At  length  the  dame  took  her  embargo  off  the 
King  of  Terrors,  and  down  he  came  to  resume  his  old 
business.  Dinally,  the  old  lady,  becoming  very  feeble, 
called  for  Death,  and  was  straightway  admitted  into 
Paradise.^ 

Another  story  in  M.  Carnoy’s  collection  (Part  ii.,  Ko. 
12),  ‘Les  trois  Souhaits,’  is  a variant  of  the  Bohemian 
tale  of  the  Happy  Shepherd  cited  above:  A soldier 
named  Tholome  obtains  from  his  captain  three  months’ 
furlough,  together  with  a present  of  three  pounds  of 
bread  and  six  liards.  On  the  way  homeward  he  is 
accosted  by  an  old  woman,  who  asks  him  for  alms, 
and  he  gives  her  a pound  of  bread.  Next  an  old  man 
comes  up  to  him,  saying  he  has  not  eaten  anything 
for  two  days,  and  Tholome  gives  him  a pound  of 
bread,  and  the  remainder  he  bestows  on  a third 
beggar.  Meeting  with  three  other  mendicants  in 
succession,  he  gives  each  two  liards.  Then  the  last 
of  these  (perhaps  we  are  to  understand  that  all  six 
were  one  and  the  same  individual)  changed  himself 
into  a bright  genie,  and  appearing  before  Tholome, 
told  him  that  in  reward  of  his  charitable  deeds  he 
should  have  three  wishes  accomplished.^  ''  In  that 

1 ‘ Contes  Frangais.  ’ Recueillis  par  E.  Henri  Carnoy.  Paris  : 1885. 

2 The  obtaining  by  supernatural  means  of  the  accomplishment  of^ 
three  wishes  is  a favourite  subject  of  popular  fictions,  and  the  various 
forms  in  which  the  notion  is  treated  are  very  numerous.  Perhaps 
the  oldest  form  is  found  in  the  several  Eastern  texts  of  the  ‘ Book  of 


THE  THREE  WISHES. 


391 


case/’  says  the  soldier,  ''  I wish  in  the  first  place  that 
any  one  who  shall  sit  on  the  bench  at  the  door  of  my 
house  shall  remain  there  as  long  as  I please ; secondly, 
that  whosoever  mounts  our  cherry-tree  shall  continue 
there  until  I give  him  leave  to  come  down ; and 
thirdly,  that  I may  confine  any  person  I please  in 
my  purse.”  ''  So  be  it,”  said  the  genie,  and  dis- 
appeared. Tholome  then  resumed  his  journey,  and 
reaching  home,  warmly  embraced  his  grandfather 
(both  his  parents  were  dead),  and  soon  after  married 
one  of  his  fair  cousins.  His  three  months’  leave  of 
absence  having  expired,  one  fine  day  comes  a gen- 
darme to  conduct  him  back  to  his  regiment.  I am 
quite  ready  to  go  with  you,”  says  Tholome;  ''only 
suffer  me  to  bid  my  poor  grandfather  farewell ; — 
meanwhile  do  you  rest  yourself  on  this  bench.” 
When  Tholome  came  out  the  gendarme  attempted 
to  rise  from  the  bench,  but  found  himself  fixed  to  it ; 
and  he  had  to  promise  Tholome  six  months’  additional 
leave  before  being  released.  When  his  second  fur- 
lough was  expired  there  came  another  gendarme  to 
fetch  Tholome,  who  desired  him  to  go  and  help  him- 
self to  some  cherries  from  the  tree  in  the  garden, 
while  he  embraced  his  grandfather;  and  he  had  to 
grant  Tholome  a year’s  leave  before  he  was  allowed 
to  descend  from  the  tree.  At  the  end  of  the  year, 
a third  gendarme  came,  who  had  the  wonderful  and 


Sindibad,’  where  a dervish  is  granted  three  wishes,  and,  acting  by  his 
wife’s  advice,  finds  himself,  when  his  third  wish  is  accomplished,  no 
better  than  before. 


392 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


very  useful  power  of  elongating  his  body  so  that  he 
could  reach  the  top  of  the  cherry-tree  standing  on  the 
ground.  “This  is  very  clever,”  says  our  hero;  “but 
can  you  also  make  yourself  as  small  as  you  please  ? ” 
Upon  this  the  gendarme  changed  himself  into  a fly, 
and  alighted  on  Tholome’s  arm,  who  instantly  clapped 
him  into  his  purse.  “ Let  me  out ! let  me  out ! ” cried 
the  gendarme,  “ and  you  shall  have  unlimited  leave  of 
absence.”  So  Tholome  set  him  free,  and  after  this 
lived  many  years  in  peace  and  happiness.^ 

A Dutch  version  of  the  same  story  occurs  in  a work 
entitled  'The  Gondola,’  by  Harry  Stoe  Vandyck,  pub- 
lished at  London  in  1827:  One  dark  evening  in  winter 
a tall  stranger  entered  the  hut  of  Jan  Schalken,  a 
kind-hearted  fisherman,  and  sought  a night’s  lodging, 
to  which  he  was  made  welcome.  In  the  morning, 
when  the  “ mysterious  stranger  ” was  about  to  depart, 
in  requital  of  Jan’s  hospitality,  he  promised  him  the 
gratification  of  three  wishes.  Jan  had  little  faith  in 
his  promise,  but  thought  he  might  as  well  put  it  to 
the  test.  So  he  first  desired  that  he  and  his  wife 
Mietje  should  live  fifty  years  longer  than  nature  had 
designed.  “It  shall  be  done,”  said  the  stranger. 
Whilst  he  was  puzzling  his  brain  for  a second  wish, 
he  bethought  him  that  a pear-tree,  which  was  in  his 
little  garden,  had  been  frequently  despoiled  of  its 
fruit,  to  the  no  small  injury  of  the  tree  and  grievous 
disappointment  of  the  owner;  so  he  said,  “Lor  my 

1 A parallel  to  this  and  the  preceding  tale  is  found  in  Miss  Busk’s 
‘ Folk-Lore  of  Rome,’  pp.  180-183. 


THE  THREE  WISHES. 


393 


second  wish,  grant  that  whoever  climbs  my  pear-tree 
shall  not  have  power  to  leave  it  until  my  permission 
be  given.’’  This  was  also  assented  to.  Now  Schalken 
was  a sober  man,  and  liked  to  sit  down  and  chat  with 
his  wife  of  an  evening ; but  she  was  a bustling  body, 
and  often  jumped  up  in  the  midst  of  a story  that  she 
had  heard  only  a dozen  times,  to  scrub  the  table  or  set 
their  clay  platters  in  order.  Nothing  disturbed  him 
so  much  as  this,  and  he  was  determined,  if  possible,  to 
prevent  a repetition  of  the  annoyance.  With  this  ob- 
ject in  view  he  approached  the  stranger,  and  in  a low 
whisper  told  him  his  third  and  last  wish,  that  whoever 
sat  in  a certain  chair  in  his  hut  should  not  be  able  to 
move  out  of  it  until  it  should  please  him  so  to  order. 
This  wish  was  also  agreed  to  by  the  traveller,  who, 
after  many  greetings,  departed  on  his  way.  Years 
passed  on,  and  Jan  had  often  fully  gratified  his  two 
wishes,  by  detaining  thieves  in  his  tree  and  his  wife 
in  her  chair,  till  the  time  came  when  he  was  seventy- 
nine  and  his  wife  seventy-three  years  of  age.  Death 
arrived  at  the  hut  one  evening,  dressed  like  a gentle- 
man, and  told  them  that  by  rights  they  should  both 
be  his  on  that  day,  but  since  a fifty  years’  respite  had 
been  granted,  he  should  not  call  again  till  that  period 
was  expired.  For  the  next  fifty  years  Jan  and  his 
wife  lived  on  as  quietly  as  before,  and  when  the  fatal 
day  at  length  arrived.  Death  kept  his  appointment. 
As  Jan  and  Mietje  were  accompanying  Death,  they 
passed  by  the  pear-tree  in  the  garden,  and  J an  per- 
suaded Death  to  climb  the  tree  and  gather  some  fruit 


394 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


for  their  journey,  but  there  he  was  stuck  fast  till  he 
granted  that  they  should  live  another  half  century. 
When  Death  came  again,  he  was  induced  to  sit  down 
in  the  enchanted  chair,  and  was  only  released  on 
promising  a further  respite  of  fifty  years,  at  the  end 
of  which  period  Jan  Schalken  and  his  wife  died 
peacefully  in  their  bed. 

In  stories  of  this  class,  the  wishes  are  granted  indif- 
ferently by  Jesus,  St.  Peter, or  the  Evil  One;  in  the 
last  case,  the  Arch-Enemy  is  to  have  the  soul  of  the 
possessor  of  the  wishes  at  the  expiry  of  a certain  per- 
iod, but  his  crafty  devices  are  invariably  turned  to  his 
own  discomfiture.  Thus  in  a Tuscan  version  a smith 
contracts  with  the  devil  to  sell  his  soul  for  two  years 
of  life,  and  is  granted  that  whosoever  should  sit  on  a 
bench  near  the  fire  must  stay  there  so  long  as  the 
smith  pleases ; that  whosoever  should  look  out  of  the 
window  cannot  go  away  without  the  smith’s  leave ; 
and  that  whosoever  should  climb  his  fig-tree  must 
remain  there  till  the  smith  permits  him  to  come  down. 
When  the  two  years  are  expired,  the  devil  comes  to 
fetch  the  smith  away,  and  is  asked  to  sit  on  the  bench 
till  the  smith  has  finished  the  job  at  which  he  is  work- 
ing, which  the  devil  unthinkingly  does ; and  the  smith 
blew  up  such  a fire  that  even  the  devil  could  not  endure 
it,  and  he  was  fain  to  grant  two  more  years  to  the 
smith  in  order  to  be  set  free.  The  same  happens  when 
he  comes  again  and  is  asked  to  look  out  of  the  window ; 
and  when  he  returns  a third  time  and  is  induced  to 
climb  the  fig-tree,  he  has  perforce  to  cancel  the  con- 


THE  THREE  WISHES. 


395 


tract  and  sign  a new  one,  by  which  it  is  solemnly 
agreed  that  the  smith  and  he  should  never  meet  again.^ 
There  is  a curious  Italian  variant,  also  from  Tuscany, 
entitled  ‘'Grandfather  Misery,’’  in  which  Jesus  and 
St.  Peter  having  received  from  the  hero  some  polenta, 
he  is  granted  in  return  three  favours : the  bench  near 
the  fire ; the  fig-tree  ; and  finally,  out  of  regard  to  St. 
Peter,  the  salvation  of  his  soul.  Death  comes,  and  is 
invited  to  sit  by  the  fire,  and  he  would  soon  be  ready. 
But  Death,  thin  as  he  is,  could  not  stand  the  heat ; so 
he  granted  him  a hundred  years  more  of  life.  When 
Death  again  comes  to  fetch  him,  he  is  induced  to  climb 
the  fig-tree  to  pick  a few  figs  for  the  journey,  and  is 
not  allowed  to  come  down  till  he  consents  to  another 
lease  of  a century  to  the  hero.  The  third  time  Death 
comes,  “ Give  me  time,”  says  his  intended  victim,  “ to 
say  an  Ave  Maria.”  “ You  shall  have  it,”  says  Death. 
But  the  old  fellow  seemed  in  no  hurry  to  begin  or  finish 
his  Ave  Maria,  and  Death  bade  him  make  haste.  “ You 
have  given  me  time,  and  I am  taking  it,”  said  Grand- 
father Misery,  who  still  lives,  for  Misery  never  ends.^ 


It  was  formerly  believed  by  Muslim  doctors  that 
evil  spirits  could  be  subdued  and  confined  in  bottles 
by  means  of  fasting  and  prayers.  This  notion  had  its 
origin,  doubtless,  in  the  Eabbinical  legends  of  Solomon’s 

^ This  story  finds  its  exact  parallel  in  an  Irish  legend,  related  (I 
think)  in  one  of  Carleton’s  books. 

See  Crane’s  ‘Italian  Popular  Tales,’  pp.  221,  222,  and  notes. 


396 


POPULAE  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


power  over  demons  and  genii  {jinn) ; and  the  Eabbins 
borrowed  most  of  their  wild  tales  of  diaUerie  from  the 
Zoroastrians  of  ancient  Persia,  and  perhaps  partly  also 
from  the  Hindus.  According  to  the  Vinculum  spiri- 
tuum,  a work  of  Eastern  extraction,  Solomon,  having 
discovered  the  secret  of  subduing  demons,  confined  no 
fewer  than  three  millions  of  them,  together  with 
seventy-two  of  their  kings,  in  a bottle  of  black  glass, 
which  he  then  threw  into  a deep  well  near  Babylon.^ 
But  it  happened  that  the  citizens  of  Babylon,  descend- 
ing into  this  well,  in  expectation  of  finding  treasure, 
and  breaking  the  bottle,  liberated  the  demons. — Le 
Sage  borrowed  the  leading  idea  of  his  well-known 
novel,  ‘ Le  Diable  Boiteux,’  ^ from  a Spanish  work, 
by  Guevara,  entitled  'El  Diable  Cojuelo,’  written  in 
1641,  in  which  a student,  named  Don  Cleofas,  "hav- 
ing accidentally  entered  the  abode  of  an  astrologer, 
delivers  from  a glass  bottle,  in  which  he  had  been 
confined  by  the  conjuror,  the  demon  called  Diable 
Cojuelo,  who  is  a spirit  nearly  of  the  same  descrip- 
tion as  the  Asmodee  of  Le  Sage,  and  who,  in  return 
for  the  service  he  had  received  from  the  scholar, 

1 The  magic  of  Babylon  is  frequently  alluded  to  by  Muslim  writers  ; 
the  poets  speak  of  the  “ Babylonian  witchery  ” of  a beautiful  woman’s 
eyes  ; and  it  is  believed  that  the  two  wicked  angels,  Hdrut  and  M^rut, 
mentioned  in  the  Kuran  (see  chap.  ii.  and  Sale’s  note),  are  still  hanging, 
head  downwards,  in  a well  at  Babel,  and  will  instruct  any  one  who  is 
bold  enough  to  go  and  solicit  them.  Setting  idle  legends  aside,  it  is 
highly  probable,  as  Sir  W.  Ouseley  remarks,  that  at  Babylon  the  Per- 
sians learnt  the  arts  of  magical  incantation  from  the  conquered  Chalde- 
ans.— Notes  to  my  privately -printed  edition  of  the  ‘ Bakhty^r  N^ma.’ 

2 The  English  translation  is  entitled  ‘The  Devil  upon  Two  Sticks.’ 


THE  DEVIL  ON  TWO  STICKS. 


397 


exhibits  to  him  the  interior  of  the  houses  of  Madrid.” 
Mr  J.  0.  Halliwell  (now  Halliwell-Phillipps),  in  his 
' Fugitive  Tracts  and  Chap  Books/  printed  for  the 
Percy  Society  (vol.  xxix.),  describes  a very  rare  tract 
which  was  evidently  also  derived  from  the  Spanish 
romance.  It  is  entitled  ''  The  Devil  upon  Two  Sticks, 
or  the  Town  Untikd  unroofed] ; with  the  comical 
humours  of  Don  Stulto  and  Seignor  Jingo;  as  it  is 
acted  in  Pinkeman’s  booth  in  May  Fair.  Printed  by 
J.  E.,  near  Fleet  Street,  1708.”  The  tract,  we  learn, 
consists  of  only  four  leaves,  and  the  title  is  illustrated 
by  a woodcut  of  Don  Stulto  escaping  from  an  intrigue, 
and  finding  himself  in  the  chamber  of  an  astrologer  at 
Madrid.  ''  He  saw  books  and  papers  in  confusion  on 
the  table,  spheres  and  compasses  on  the  one  side,  and 
vials  and  quadrants  on  the  other.  Presently  he  heard 
a deep  sigh  break  out  just  by  him,  which  a little 
startled  him.  He  took  it  at  first  for  a nocturnal  illu- 
sion or  imaginary  phantom,  but  hearing  a second  sigh, 
it  made  him  cry  out,  ‘What  devil  is  it  which  sighs 
here.’  ‘ ’Tis  I,  Seignor  Stulto,’  answers  a voice ; ‘ I 
have  been  three  years  enclosed  in  one  of  these  bottles. 
In  this  house  lives  a skilful  magician,  who,  by  the 
power  of  his  art,  has  kept  me  so  long  shut  up  in  this 
close  prison.’  ” The  demon  is  liberated,  and  represented 
as  “a  very  surprising  figure,  about  three  feet  and  a 
half  high,  resting  upon  two  crutches,  with  goat’s  legs 
and  a long  visage,  sharp  chin,  a yellow  and  black  com- 
plexion, a very  flat  nose,  and  eyes  that  seemed  like  two 
lighted  coals.” 


398 


“THE  RING  AND  THE  FISH”  LEGENDS:  MEN  LIVING 
INSIDE  MONSTROUS  FISH. 

QOLOMON’S  recovery  of  his  magical  signet-ring 
^ from  the  stomach  of  a fish,  according  to  the  Tal- 
mudic legends,  finds  many  parallels  in  the  popular 
tales  of  Europe,  and  the  Eabbins  perhaps  borrowed  the 
idea  from  the  classical  story  of  Poly  crates,  which  must 
be  so  generally  known  that  it  need  hardly  be  cited 
here,  excepting  for  its  connection  with  similar  stories. 
Polycrates,  king  of  Samos,  having  made  a treaty  of 
alliance  with  Amasis,  king  of  Egypt,  the  latter,  terri- 
fied by  his  continued  prosperity,  advised  him  to  chequer 
his  enjoyments  by  relinquishing  some  of  his  most 
cherished  possessions.  Polycrates  complied  by  throw- 
ing into  the  sea  a magnificent  ring,  the  most  valuable 
of  his  jewels.  The  voluntary  loss  of  so  precious  an 
object  afflicted  him  for  some  time,  but  a few  days  after 
he  received  a present  of  a large  fish,  in  whose  stomach 
the  jewel  was  found.  Amasis  no  sooner  heard  of  this 
than  he  rejected  all  alliance  with  Poly  crates,  observing 
that  sooner  or  later  his  good  fortune  would  be  reversed. 


KING-AND-FISH  LEGENDS. 


399 


The  plot  of  the  noble  Hindu  drama  of  ‘ Sakiintala/  by 
Kalidasa,  turns  upon  the  same  incident.  In  Act  vi. 
a fisherman  offers  for  sale  a ring  bright  with  a large 
gem,’’  on  which  the  king’s  name  is  engraved,  and, 
being  arrested  by  the  police,  tells  them  that  one  day, 
having  caught  a large  rdhita  fish,  I cut  it  open,  and  saw 
this  bright  ring  in  its  stomach.”  The  ring  had  been 
given  by  the  king  to  Sakiintala,  whom  he  had 
married  by  the  Gandharva  form  while  on  a hunting 
expedition,  and  after  his  return  to  his  capital,  alto- 
gether forgot  her,  and  its  recovery  at  once  brings 
her  back  to  his  recollection,  and  the  lovers  are  fin- 
ally united.^ 

A story  is  told  in  the  Talmud  of  a wealthy  but  irre- 
ligious man,  who  was  informed  by  an  astrologer  that 
all  his  riches  should  one  day  come  into  the  possession 
of  his  neighbour  Joseph,  a poor  man,  but  very  strict  in 
his  observance  of  the  Sabbath.  Eesolved  to  set  the 
stars  at  defiance,  this  man  disposed  of  all  his  property, 
and  purchased  with  the  proceeds  a large  diamond, 
which  he  sewed  into  his  turban,  and  then  embarked  in 
a vessel  bound  for  a distant  country.  Standing  on  the 
deck,  his  turban  was  blown  into  the  sea, — and  how  he 
fared  after  the  loss  of  all  his  wealth  the  Talmudist 
does  not  inform  us ; but  it  happened  shortly  after  this 
accident  that  the  pious  Joseph,  having  bought  a fish 
and  taken  it  home  to  have  it  cooked  on  the  Sabbath 

^ In  the  ‘ Mahdbh^rata  ’ — Last  Days  of  the  Sons  of  Pdndu — we 
read  that  a piece  of  iron  was  found  in  the  belly  of  a fish  and  made 
into  an  arrow-head,  with  which  Krishna  was  slain. 


400 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


eve,  found  in  its  stomach  the  very  diamond  which  his 
neighbour  had  lost  with  his  turban. 

The  legend  of  Kentigern,  or  St  Mungo,  the  patron 
saint  of  the  city  of  Glasgow,  is  another  of  the  ring 
legends  which  abound  in  European  folk-lore.  ''A 
queen,  having  formed  an  improper  attachment  to  a 
handsome  soldier,  put  upon  his  finger  a precious  ring 
which  her  own  lord  had  conferred  upon  her.  The 
king,  made  aware  of  the  fact,  took  an  opportunity,  in 
hunting,  while  the  soldier  lay  asleep  beside  the  Clyde, 
to  snatch  off  the  ring  and  throw  it  into  the  river. 
Then,  returning  home  along  with  the  soldier,  he 
demanded  of  the  queen  the  ring  he  had  given  her. 
She  sent  secretly  to  the  soldier  for  the  ring,  which 
could  not  be  restored.  In  great  terror  she  then 
despatched  a messenger  to  ask  the  assistance  of  Kenti- 
gern. He,  who  knew  of  the  affair  before  being  in- 
formed of  it,  went  to  the  river  Clyde,  and  having 
caught  a salmon,  took  from  its  stomach  the  missing 
ring,  which  he  sent  to  the  queen.  She  joyfully  went 
with  it  to  the  king,  who,  thinking  he  had  wronged  her, 
swore  he  would  be  revenged  upon  her  accusers ; but  she 
affecting  a forgiving  temper,  besought  him  to  pardon 
them,  as  she  had  done.  At  the  same  time  she  con- 
fessed her  error  to  Kentigern,  and  solemnly  vowed  to 
be  more  careful  of  her  conduct  in  the  future.’’  ^ 

A poor  man  finds  a valuable  diamond  in  a fish,  in 
a North  German  legend  entitled  ''The  Three  Gifts.” 
Three  students  becoming  acquainted  with  a poor 
^ Chambers’s  ‘ Book  of  Days,’  vol.  i.,  pp.  105,  106. 


RING-AND-FISH  LEGENDS. 


401 


weaver,  gave  him  a hundred  dollars.  He  did  not  even 
tell  his  wife  of  his  good  fortune,  but  concealed  the 
money  among  some  old  rags,  which  his  wife  one  day 
sold  to  a rag-collector.  When  a year  had  passed,  tlie 
three  students  came  again,  and  finding  the  man  poorer 
than  before,  when  they  expected  he  would  be  in  com- 
fortable circumstances,  they  asked  him  the  reason,  and 
he  informed  them  of  his  misfortune.  Warning  him  to 
be  more  careful  for  the  future,  they  gave  him  another 
hundred  dollars.  Now  he  resolved  to  be  more  prudent, 
and  so,  without  saying  a word  to  his  wife,  he  hid  the 
money  in  the  dust-tub,  the  contents  of  which  his  wife 
exchanged  with  the  dustman  for  a few  pieces  of  soap, 
in  her  husband’s  absence.  Another  year  having 
passed,  the  three  students  came  for  the  third  time,  and 
found  the  weaver  in  rags  and  misery.  They  said  to 
him,  at  the  same  time  throwing  a piece  of  lead  at  his 
feet,  Of  what  use  is  a nutmeg  to  a cow  ? To  give 
thee  money  again  would  prove  us  greater  fools  than 
thou  art.”  Thereupon  they  went  aw^ay  in  anger,  and 
the  weaver  picked  up  the  piece  of  lead  and  placed  it 
in  the  window-sill.  By-and-by  his  neighbour,  a fish- 
erman, came  to  him,  and  inquired  whether  he  could 
lend  him  a piece  of  lead,  or  anything  heavy,  as  a 
sinker  for  his  net.  He  gave  the  fisherman  the  bit  of 
lead  which  the  students  had  thrown  at  his  feet,  and 
was  promised  the  first  large  fish  he  caught.  He  re- 
ceived from  the  fisherman  a fish  of  four  or  five  pounds 
weight,  and  when  he  opened  it  he  found  in  its  stomach 
a large  stone,  which  in  the  dark  shone  like  the 
VOL.  I.  2 c 


402 


POPULAE  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


snn.^  It  was  a diamond,  and  the  weaver  sold  it  to 
a merchant  who  chanced  to  be  passing  for  1000  dol- 
lars, and  then  became  the  richest  man  in  the  village. 
His  wife  would  have  it  that  his  good  fortune  was 
entirely  due  to  her  having  thrown  away  the  money 
twice.^ 

An  exact  parallel  to  this  legend  is  found  in  the 
Arabian  tale  of  the  poor  ropemaker,  whom  two  bene- 
volent gentlemen  wished  to  assist  in  his  business.  One 
of  them,  believing  that  without  money  no  one  could 
attain  wealth,  gave  the  poor  man  twice  a sum  of 
money.  Of  the  first  sum,  he  spent  a portion  in  buy- 
ing hemp,  and  wrapped  the  remainder  in  his  turban, 
which  a kite  snatched  off  his  head  one  day;  of  the 
second  sum  given  him  the  following  year,  when  the 
two  friends  came  to  see  how  the  money  had  been 
spent,  he  again  used  a part  in  the  purchase  of  hemp, 
and  placed  the  balance  in  a pot,  which  he  then  filled 
with  sand.  His  wife  sold  the  sand,  pot  and  all,  to  a 
sand-merchant.  The  third  year  the  two  friends  came 
again,  when  he  told  them  of  his  second  mishap,  which 
the  gentleman  who  gave  the  money  did  not  believe. 
The  other,  who  was  of  opinion  that  it  is  vain  to  strive 
if  destiny  is  not  in  our  favour,  gave  the  ropemaker  a 
piece  of  lead.  As  in  the  German  tale,  a fisherman 
borrows  the  lead  as  a sinker  for  his  lines,  and  gives 
him  by  way  of  acknowledgment  a fish,  which  contains 
a splendid  diamond.  This  the  ropemaker  sells  to  a 

^ See  Note,  “Luminous  Jewels,”  p.  412. 

2 Thorpe’s  ‘Yule-Tide  Stories,’  p.  463  of  Bohn’s  edition. 


EING-AND-FISH  LEGENDS. 


403 


Jew,  who  lived  next  door,  for  a great  sum  of  money, 
and  he  now  begins  business  on  a ''  large  scale.”  At 
the  end  of  the  fourth  year  the  two  friends  come  again, 
and  find  that  he  has  removed  to  more  commodious 
premises.”  He  tells  them  the  cause  of  his  success  in 
trade,  and  before  they  leave,  strange  to  say  (that  is, 
outside  of  an  oriental  romance),  his  turban  with  the 
money  is  found  in  a tree,  the  kite  having  made  a nest 
of  it,  and  the  pot  of  sand  with  the  money  originally 
placed  in  it  has  again  found  its  way  into  his  own 
warehouse,  thus  proving  the  truth  of  his  stories. 

Strange  things  are  certainly  found  sometimes  in  the 
stomachs  of  large  fish,  occasionally  even  rings  and 
gems — for  they  greedily  seize  and  swallow  any  glitter- 
ing object;  but  the  ring-legends  of  all  countries  are 
for  the  most  part  mere  inventions.  The  story  of 
Kentigern  is  an  evident  imitation  of  Christ’s  miracle, 
of  causing  a fish  to  be  caught,  in  whose  stomach  was 
found  money  wherewith  to  pay  tribute  to  Caesar.^ 


If  such  tales  as  those  above  cited,  of  wonderful 
finds  ” in  the  maws  of  fish,  may  be  admitted  to  be 
probable  or  possible,  the  equally  wide-spread  and 

^ The  old  ballad  of  ^ The  Cruel  Knight  and  the  Fortunate  Farmer’s 
Daughter  ’ turns  upon  the  discovery  of  a ring  in  the  stomach  of  a fish  ; 
a legend  "which  is  alluded  to  in  Ly son’s  ‘Environs  of  London,’  and 
which  forms  the  basis  of  a novel  entitled  ‘ Dame  Rebecca  Berry  ; or, 
Court  Scenes  in  the  reign  of  Charles  II.,’  published  at  London  in  1827. 


404 


POPULAK  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


ancient  legends  of  men  having  been  swallowed  by 
monster  fish  and  escaping  after  living  therein — not 
merely  the  three  days  and  three  nights  ’’  of  the 
prophet  Jonah’s  similar  experience,  but  sometimes  for 
several  years — are  so  incredible  that  we  must  con- 
clude, either  that  they  had  originally  an  esoteric  sig- 
nification, and  are  variants  of  a ''nature  myth,”  or 
that  they  are  the  mere  offspring  of  the  untutored 
fancy.  Stories  of  this  class  are  common  to  the  folk- 
lore of  Asiatic  countries,  but  they  were  not  unfamiliar 
in  medieval  Europe,  if  we  may  judge  from  a specimen 
found  in  one  of  the  early  English  versions  of  the 
' Gesta  Eomanorum.’  The  king  of  Naples  sends  his 
daughter  in  a ship  to  be  married  to  the  son  of  the 
Emperor  of  Eome: 

" And  whenne  thei  were  in  the  shippe,  and  hadde 
passid  fro  the  londe,  there  rose  vp  a gret  horribill 
tempest,  and  draynt  all  that  were  in  the  ship,  except 
the  mayde.  Thenne  the  mayde  sette  all  hire  hope 
strongly  in  God ; and  at  the  laste,  the  tempest  sesid ; 
but  ther  folowid  strongly  a gret  whale,  to  devoure 
this  maide.  And  whenne  she  saw  that,  she  moche 
dradde  ; and  whan  the  nyght  com,  the  maide  dredyng 
that  the  whale  wolde  haue  swolowide  the  ship,  smot 
fire  at  a stone,  and  had  gret  plente  of  fire.  And  as 
long  as  the  fire  laste,  the  whale  dorst  come  no  nere, 
but  abowte  cockis  crowe  the  mayde,  for  gret  vexacion 
that  she  hadde  with  the  tempest,  fell  on  slepe,  and  in 
hire  slep  the  fire  went  out.  And  when  it  was  out  the 
whale  com  nye,  and  swolowid  both  the  ship  and  the 


MEN  SWALLOWED  BY  MONSTER  FISH. 


405 


mayde.  And  when  the  mayde  felte  that  she  was  in 
the  wombe  of  the  whale,  she  smot,  and  made  a gret 
fire,  and  greuously  wondid  the  whale  with  a littill 
knyfe,  in  so  moche  that  he  drowe  to  the  lond,  and 
deyde.  For  that  is  the  kynde,  to  drawe  to  the  londe 
when  he  shall  dye.  And  in  this  tym  ther  was  an 
Erie  namyd  Pirius,  and  he  walkid  in  his  disport  by 
the  see,  and  afore  him  he  sawe  the  whale  come  toward 
the  lond.  He  gaderid  gret  helpe  and  strenght  of 
men ; [and]  with  diuerse  instrumentis  thei  smote  the 
whale  in  euery  part  of  hym.  And  when  the  dame- 
sell  hurde  the  gret  strokys,  she  cryde  with  an  hye 
voys,  and  saide,  Gentill  siris,  havith  pite  of  me,  for  I 
am  the  dowter  of  a king,  and  a mayde  haue  y-ben  sith 
I was  borne.  Whenne  the  Erie  hurde  this,  he  mer- 
veilid  gretly,  and  openyd  the  whale,  and  toke  out  the 
damesell.  Thenne  the  maide  tolde  by  ordr  how  that 
she  was  a kyngys  dowter,  and  howe  she  loste  hir 
goodes  in  the  see,  and  how  she  sholde  be  maryed  to  the 
Emperour.  And  when  the  Erie  hurde  theise  wordis, 
he  was  glad,  and  helde  the  maide  with  him  a gret 
while,  till  tyme  that  she  was  wele  confortid;  and 
thenne  he  sent  hire  solemply  to  the  Emperour.”^ 

To  say  the  least,  this  ''  story  ” is  not  very  consist- 
ent in  its  details:  all  those  on  board  the  ship  were 
drowned,  excepting  the  maiden,  after  which  both  she 
and  the  vessel  were  swallowed  by  a great  whale  ” ; 
but  how  the  others  came  to  be  drowned  without  the 

^ Herrtage’s  ‘Gesta  Romanorum’  (Early  English  Text  Society), 
pp.  297-299. 


406 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


ship  being  broken  in  pieces  the  credulous  monkish 
chronicler  does  not  condescend  to  inform  us : and 
since  the  maiden  told  the  noble  who  rescued  her  from 
the  animahs  internal  economy  that  she  had  lost  all 
her  goods  by  the  misadventure,  we  must  suppose  that 
the  whale  had  digested  ship  and  cargo. 

The  story  may  have  been  suggested  by  Lucian’s 
'Vera  Historia,’  Book  i.,  where  a monster  fish  swal- 
lows a ship,  and  the  crew  discover  extensive  countries 
in  the  creature’s  inside.^  Sindbad,  of  'Arabian  Mghts  ’ 
celebrity,  among  other  perils  he  encountered  in  his 
frequent  voyages  to  unknown  parts,  narrowly  escaped 
the  like  fate : his  vessel  was  surrounded  by  enormous 
fish,  one  of  which  darted  down  to  swallow  the  ship 
and  all  that  was  in  her ; but  a tempest  drove  her  on 
a reef  and  broke  her  to  pieces — the  hero  reaching  the 
shore,  as  usual,  with  the  aid  of  a plank.  It  is  sur- 
prising that  the  historian  of  Sindbad’s  trading  career 
has  not  represented  him  as  having  been  actually  swal- 
lowed— himself,  at  least — by  the  sea-monster  that  thus 
threatened  the  destruction  of  the  ship  and  all  that  was 
in  her ; — the  incident  could  hardly  fail  of  proving  to 
most  readers  an  interesting  addition  to  the  marvels  so 
minutely  described  by  the  Arabian  story-teller. 

^ Possibly  Rabelais  had  this  most  veracious  incident  in  mind  when 
he  represented  the  renowned  Pantagruel  as  eating  a salad  one  day, 
and  unwittingly  taking  into  his  mouth  half  a dozen  pilgrims  who 
had  sheltered  themselves  under  the  leaves.  By  skipping  about  with 
their  staves  the  unlucky  pilgrims  manage  to  avoid  contact  with  his 
grinders,  till  at  last  one  of  them  chances  to  strike  the  cleft  of  a de- 
cayed tooth ; the  pain  which  this  occasions  makes  him  search  his 
mouth,  and  the  devotees  are  delivered. 


MEN  SWALLOWED  BY  MONSTER  FISH. 


407 


More  judicious  was  the  Hindu  author  in  his  story  of 
Saktideva’s  adventures  in  quest  of  the  Golden  City. 
That  hero  sets  out  in  the  vessel  of  a merchant  with 
whom  he  had  scraped  acquaintance,  and  this  is  what 
happened  to  him : When  they  had  but  a short  dis- 
tance to  travel,  there  arose  a black  cloud  with  rum- 

f 

bling  thunder,  resembling  a roaring  rakshasa,  with 
flickering  lightning  to  represent  his  lolling  tongue. 
And  a furious  hurricane  began  to  blow  like  Destiny 
herself,  whirling  up  light  objects  and  hurling  down 
heavy.i  And  from  the  sea,  lashed  by  the  wind,  great 
waves  rose  aloft  like  the  mountains  equipped  with 
wings,  indignant  that  their  asylum  had  been  attacked. 
And  that  vessel  rose  on  high  one  moment,  and  the 
next  moment  plunged  below,  as  if  exhibiting  how  rich 
men  are  first  elevated  and  then  cast  down.  And  the 
next  moment  that  ship,  shrilly  laden  with  the  cries  of 

^ That  is  to  say,  Destiny  often  elevates  the  worthless,  and  hurls 
down  men  of  worth. — Compare  Defoe,  in  his  scathing  reply  to  Lord 
Haversham’s  Vindication  of  his  Speech  : “ Fate  makes  footballs  of 
men;  kicks  some  up -stairs  and  some  down; — some  are  advanced 
without  honour,  others  suppressed  without  infamy  ; some  are  raised 
without  merit,  some  are  crushed  without  crime ; — and  no  man  knows, 
by  the  beginning  of  things,  whether  his  course  will  issue  in  a peerage 
or  a pillory.”  And  these  passages  from  the  drama  of  “Mrichchakata,” 
or  the  Toy-Cart  (Dr  H.  H.  Wilson’s  ‘ Theatre  of  the  Hindus  ’ ) : 

‘ ‘ Fate  views  the  world 
A scene  of  mutual  and  perpetual  struggle  ; 

And  sports  with  life  as  if  it  were  a wheel 
That  draws  the  limpid  water  from  the  well ; 

For  some  are  raised  to  aiSuence,  some  depressed 
In  want,  and  some  are  borne  awhile  aloft. 

And  some  hurled  down  to  wretchedness  and  woe.” 

“ O Fate  ! thou  sportest  with  the  fortunes  of  mankind, 

Like  drops  of  water  trembling  on  the  lotus-leaf.” 


408 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


the  merchants,  burst  and  split  asunder,  as  if  with  the 
weight.  And  the  ship  being  broken,  that  merchant 
its  owner  fell  into  the  sea,  but  floating  through  it  on 
a plank,  he  at  last  reached  another  vessel.  But  as 
Saktideva  fell,  a large  fish,  opening  its  mouth  and 
neck,  swallowed  him  without  injuring  any  of  his 
limbs.  And  as  that  fish  was  roaming  at  will  in  the 
midst  of  the  sea,  it  happened  to  pass  near  the  island 
of  Utsthala ; and  by  chance  some  servants  of  the  king 
of  the  fishermen,  Satyavrata,  who  were  engaged  in  the 
pursuit  of  small  fish,  came  there  and  caught  it.  And 
those  fishermen,  proud  of  their  prize,  immediately 
dragged  it  along  to  show  their  king,  for  it  was  of 
enormous  size.  He  too,  out  of  curiosity,  seeing  that  it 
was  of  such  extraordinary  size,  ordered  his  servants  to 
cut  it  open ; and  when  it  was  cut  open,  Saktideva  came 
out  alive  from  its  belly,  having  endured  a second 
wonderful  imprisonment  in  the  womb.’’  ^ 

A similar  accident  befell  Ahla,  the  celebrated 
Bundel’-khand  hero : ''  The  Banaphals  went  once  to 
Hardwar  to  hunt.  When  they  arrived  near  the  hunt- 
ing-ground, Ahla  went  into  the  Ganges  to  bathe,  and 
was  then  and  there  swallowed  by  a monstrous  fish. 
His  friends  searched  for  him.  While  they  were 
lamenting,  Machhlavatf,  the  daughter  of  the  king 

^ ‘ Katha  Sarit  Sagara,’  chap.  xxv. — In  another  story,  chap.  Ixxiv.,  a 
Brahman  named  Sankhadatta  relates  how  he  was  swallowed  by  a very 
large  fish  in  the  Ganges,  and  remained  for  a long  time  inside  ‘‘  the 
capacious  habitation  of  its  stomach,”  eating  its  flesh,  which  he  cut 
ofi*  with  a knife,  until  the  waves  cast  the  fish  upon  the  bank,  and  some 
men,  having  killed  it,  drew  him  out. 


MEN  SWALLOWED  BY  MONSTER  FISH. 


409 


Eagho  Machli  of  Hardwar,  came  there  with  her  com- 
panions to  bathe.  Hearing  the  lamentations  of  Ahla’s 
friends,  she  sent  for  a fisherman,  who,  throwing  his 
net  into  the  river,  brought  the  fish  to  land.  On  its 
belly  being  split  open,  Ahla  issued  therefrom  unhurt. 
Thereupon  they  all  set  out  for  Machhlavatfs  house, 
and  Ahla  engaged  himself  to  marry  her  and  her  friend 
Subhna.”  ^ 

But  a proud  king,  in  a Kashmiri  tale,  who  had  lost 
his  kingdom,  and  was  swept  away  by  a swift  river 
which  he  attempted  to  wade  across,  had  a sojourn  of 
many  years  inside  a great  fish.  Meanwhile  his  two 
little  sons  had  been  found  on  the  banks  of  the  river, 
and  adopted  by  a kind-hearted  fisherman  and  his  wife. 
''  One  day  it  happened  that  an  enormous  fish  threw 
itself  on  the  bank  of  the  river,  and  could  not  get  back 
into  the  water.  Everybody  in  the  village  went  to  see 
the  monster  and  cut  off  a slice  of  it.  A few  people 
also  went  from  the  neighbouring  villages,  and  amongst 
them  was  a maker  of  earthenware.  His  wife  had  heard 
of  the  great  fish,  and  urged  him  to  go  and  get  some 
of  the  flesh.  Accordingly  he  went,  although  the  hour 
was  late.  On  arriving  he  found  nobody  there,  as  all 
the  people  had  satisfied  themselves  and  returned. 
The  potter  took  an  axe  with  him,  thinking  that  the 
bones  would  be  so  thick  as  to  require  its  aid  before 
they  could  be  broken.  When  he  struck  the  first  blow 
a voice  came  out  of  the  fish,  as  of  some  one  in  pain. 
The  potter  was  very  much  surprised.  ' Perhaps,’ 

^ “Legend  of  Ahld,”  in  ‘Indian  Antiquary,’  September  1885. 


410 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


thought  he,  ' the  fish  is  possessed  by  a bhiit.  Ill 
try  again ; ’ whereupon  he  struck  another  blow. 
Again  a voice  came  forth  from  the  fish,  saying, 
'Woe  is  me!  woe  is  me!’  On  hearing  this  the 
potter  thought,  'Well,  this  is  not  a bhiit  evidently,  but 
the  voice  of  an  ordinary  man.  Ill  cut  the  flesh  care- 
fully. May  be  that  I shall  find  some  poor  distressed 
person.’  He  began  to  cut  away  the  flesh  carefully,  and 
presently  he  descried  a man’s  foot ; then  the  legs 
appeared ; then  the  body,  all  entire.  ' Praise  be  to 
God ! ’ he  cried  aloud,  ' the  soul  is  in  him  yet.’  He 
carried  the  man  to  his  house  as  fast  as  he  could,  and 
there  did  everything  in  his  power  to  recover  him; 
and  the  joy  of  the  potter  and  his  wife  was  great  when 
they  saw  that  the  stranger  was  revived.”  ^ This  was 
the  once-proud  king,  who  had  lived  so  long  in  the 
inside  of  the  monster  fish. 

In  one  of  Miss  Stokes’  'Indian  Fairy  Tales,’  the 
heroine,  " Loving  Laili,”  lives  twelve  years  in  a Eohita 
fish;  and  in  another,  in  the  same  entertaining  story- 
book (which  is  rendered  so  useful  to  story  comparers 
by  Mr  Ralston’s  learned  Introduction  to  it),  a crocodile 
is  substituted  for  a fish  (No.  12) : A man  started  off  to 
the  river,  and  began  drawing  up  water  in  a bucket. 
" Stop,  stop  ! ” cried  an  alligator,  who  was  the  king  of 
the  fishes ; " you  are  taking  all  the  water  out  of  the 
river,  and  my  fishes  will  die.”  The  man  replied,  " I 
want  money,  and  I can  find  none ; so  I am  taking  the 

1 a Pride  Abased : a Kashmiri  Tale,”  by  the  Rev.  J.  Hinton 
Knowles,  in  ‘Indian  Antiquary,’  June  1886. 


MEN  SWALLOWED  BY  MONSTER  FISH. 


411 


water  out  of  the  river  in  order  to  get  some  ’’  [by  selling 
it].  ‘‘You  shall  have  some  in  a minute,”  said  the. 
alligator ; “ only  do  stop  drawing  the  water.”  Then  a 
great  wave  of  water  dashed  on  to  the  land,  and  dashed 
back  into  the  river,  leaving  behind  it  a heap  of 
gold,  which  the  man  picked  up  joyfully.  The  next 
day  he  came  again,  and  night  and  day  he  drew  water 
out  of  the  river.  At  last  the  alligator  got  very  angry 
and  said,  “ My  fishes  will  all  die  for  want  of  water. 
Once  I gave  the  man  a heap  of  gold,  and  yet  he  wants 
more.  I won’t  give  him  any,”  and  the  alligator  thrust 
up  his  head  out  of  the  river  and  swallowed  the  man 
whole.  For  four  days  and  four  nights  the  man  lived 
in  the  alligator’s  stomach.  At  the  end  of  the  fourth 
night  the  king  of  the  fishes  said  to  him,  “ I will  let 
you  get  out  of  my  stomach  on  condition  that  you  tell 
no  man  what  has  happened  to  you.  If  you  do,  you 
will  die  instantly.”  The  man  jumped  out  of  the 
alligator’s  mouth  and  walked  towards  his  house.  On 
his  way  he  met  some  men,  and  told  them  what  had 
happened  to  him ; and  as  soon  as  he  got  home  he  told 
his  wife  and  children,  and  the  moment  he  had  done  so 
he  became  mad  and  dumb,  and  blood  came  out  of  his 
mouth,  and  he  fell  down  dead. 


412 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


NOTE. 

Luminous  Jewels  (p.  402). 

In  the  ‘ Gesta  Eomanorum/  chap,  cvii.,  a carbuncle  supplies 
the  place  of  sunlight.  Whether  a carbuncle  doth  flame  in  the 
dark,”  says  Sir  Thomas  Browne,  in  his  ‘Vulgar  Errors,’  “or 
shine  like  a coal  in  the  night,  though  generally  agreed  on  by 
common  believers,  is  very  much  questioned  by  many.”  (Why 
did  not  Sir  Thomas  satisfy  himself,  by  experiments?)  This 
absurd  notion  of  luminous  jewels  is  of  frequent  occurrence  in 
Eastern  fictions  and  legends.  In  the  Talmud  it  is  said  that 
Noah  and  his  family  while  in  the  Ark  had  no  light  besides  what 
was  sent  forth  by  diamonds  and  other  precious  stones.  And 
Abraham,  who,  it  seems,  was  very  jealous  of  his  wives,  built 
for  them  a city,  the  walls  of  which  were  so  high  as  to  exclude 
the  light  of  the  sun ! — an  inconvenience  which  he  easily 
remedied  by  means  of  a large  basin  full  of  pearls  and  other 
gems,  which  shed  a light  equal  in  brilliancy  to  that  of  the  “ eye 
of  day.”  It  is  related  that  over  the  gable  of  the  palace  of 
Prester  John  were  placed,  at  the  two  extremities,  two  golden 
apples,  in  each  of  which  were  two  carbuncles,  so  that  the 
gold  might  shine  by  day  and  the  carbuncles  by  night.  In  the 
Pseudo-Callisthenes  it  is  said  that  Alexander  found  in  the 
belly  of  a fish  a precious  stone,  w^hich  he  set  in  gold,  and  used 
at  night  as  a lamp.  In  Lucian’s  ‘ De  Dea  Syri^,’  on  the  head  of 
the  statue  of  the  goddess  was  a stone,  “which  they  call  the 
Lamp,  from  its  lustre  ; by  night  it  shines  with  such  splendour 
as  to  light  the  whole  temple.”  In  the  ‘ Forty  Vazirs  ’ we  read 
of  a dome  composed  of  a carbuncle  six  feet  in  diameter,  which 
served  instead  of  the  sun  in  an  underground  palace.  Jewel- 
lamps  are  often  mentioned  in  the  ‘ Katha  Sarit  Sagara.’ 


413 


MAGICAL  TRANSFORMATIONS. 

rilHE  stem  of  what  Mr  Baring  - Gould  terms  the 
Magical-Conflict  Boot  ” has  spread  its  branches 
far  and  wide  in  the  shape  of  popular  Actions  in  which 
two  or  more  persons,  possessing  nearly  equal  powers  of 
changing  themselves  into  whatever  forms  they  please, 
engage  in  a life -or -death  struggle.  It  seems  to  me 
that  popular  belief  in  men  being  capable  of  acquiring 
such  powers  should  sufflciently  account  for  the  uni- 
versal prevalence  of  stories  of  this  class,  without  seek- 
ing for  their  origin  in  primitive  conceptions  of  the 
phenomena  of  physical  nature,  such  as  sunrise,  sunset, 
clouds,  lightning,  and  so  forth.  However  this  may 
be,  there  certainly  is  no  cycle  of  folk-tales  of  which 
the  members  everywhere  present  a more  striking 
resemblance  to  each  other,  or  indicate  more  clearly 
a common  origin.  In  this  case  especially  is  inde- 
pendent invention  of  the  same  incidents  in  different 
countries  and  ages  altogether  out  of  the  question,  as  I 
hope  to  prove  conclusively  in  the  course  of  the  present 
paper. 


414 


POPULAE  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


Eeaders  familiar  with  the  ‘Arabian  Nights’ — and 
who  is  not  ? — must  remember  the  terrible  conflict 
which  occurs  in  the  story  of  the  Second  Calender: 
He  had  been  changed  into  an  ape  by  an  evil  genie ; 
and  while  a beautiful  young  princess  is  performing 
magical  rites  for  restoring  him  to  his  natural  form, 
the  genie  appears  as  a fierce  lion,  upon  which  the 
princess  changes  herself  into  a keen-edged  sword  and 
cuts  the  lion  in  two.  Then  the  genie  becomes  a scor- 
pion and  the  princess  a serpent,  in  which  form  she 
vanquishes  her  enemy,  who  flees  away  as  an  eagle,  and 
is  pursued  by  the  princess  as  a larger  eagle.  The 
succeeding  metamorphoses  are : a black  cat,  chased  by 
a wolf;  the  cat  becomes  a worm,  which,  piercing  a 
pomegranate,  causes  it  to  burst,  when  the  wolf  becomes 
a cock,  and  begins  to  pick  up  the  seeds ; one  of  the 
seeds  rolls  into  the  canal  and  becomes  a fish,  and  then 
the  cock  turns  himself  into  a great  pike ; finally,  the 
princess  and  the  genie  are  seen  enveloped  in  flames, 
and  both  are  reduced  to  ashes. — This  catastrophe  is, 
so  far  as  I am  aware,  peculiar  to  the  Arabian  version 
of  the  Magical  Conflict ; in  the  other  versions  the 
person  who  acts  the  same  part  as  the  princess  is  usu- 
ally victorious. 

Keightley,  in  his  ‘ Tales  and  Popular  Fictions,’  pub- 
lished more  than  half  a century  ago — an  interesting 
little  book,  though  now  obsolete  with  comparative 
storiologists  — has  pointed  out  Italian  and  German 
tales  “which  have  some  resemblance”  to  the  fore- 


MAGICAL  TKANSFOKMATIONS. 


415 


going,  ‘‘though  probably  an  accidental  one/’  This 
is  Keightley’s  abstract  of  a story  in  the  ‘ Pleasant 
Nights’  of  Straparola:^ 

A magician,  named  Lactantius,  followed  the  trade 
of  a tailor.  He  takes  an  apprentice,  who,  happening 
to  overhear  his  incantations,  loses  all  relish  for  tailor- 
ing, and  his  father  takes  him  home.  Lactantius,  how- 
ever, receives  him  again,  and  sets  him  now  only  to 
common  work,  and  the  father  takes  him  away  once 
more.  As  they  were  very  poor,  the  son  said  to  his 
father,  “ I will  turn  myself  into  a fine  horse.  Do  you 
then  sell  me ; but  be  sure  to  keep  the  bridle,  and  not 
to  let  it  go  with  me,  or  else  I cannot  come  back.”  Lac- 
tantius, seeing  the  horse,  knows  who  it  is.  He  buys 
him,  and  persuades  the  father  to  let  him  have  the 
bridle  along  with  him.  Having  got  the  horse  into  his 
possession,  he  ties  him  up,  beats  him,  and  abuses  him. 
One  day  the  daughters  of  the  magician  led  the  horse 
to  water,  when  suddenly  he  turned  himself  into  a little 
fish,  and  dived  down.  Lactantius  hastened  to  the 
spot,  and  becoming  a large  fish,  pursued  the  little  one, 
who  jumped,  in  the  form  of  a ruby  set  in  a gold  ring, 
into  the  basket  of  the  king’s  daughter,  who  was  gather- 
ing pebbles  at  that  place.  She  takes  him  away  with 
her,  and  he  shows  himself  to  her  in  his  true  form — 
that  of  a handsome  youth.  She  loves  him,  and  keeps 
him  with  her  as  a ring.  The  king  falling  sick,  Lac- 
tantius comes  as  a physician,  cures  him,  and  for  his 

^ ‘Piacevoli  Notti  di  M.  Giovan  Francesco  Straparola  la  Caravagio,’ 
etc.,  first  printed  at  Venice  in  1550. 


416 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


fee  demands  a ruby -ring  which  his  daughter  has,  and 
with  which  he  was  well  acquainted.  The  princess  re- 
fuses to  give  it  up ; but  when  at  last  she  is  compelled 
to  surrender  it,  the  youth  tells  her  to  throw  it  against 
the  wall  before  the  magician.  She  does  so,  and  as 
soon  as  the  ring  falls  to  the  ground  it  is  turned  into 
a pomegranate,  which  bursts,  and  scatters  its  seeds 
about.  The  magician  converts  himself  into  a cock, 
and  picks  them  up ; but  one  hid  itself  from  him,  and 
becoming  a fox,  catches  him  by  the  neck  and  bites  his 
head  off.  The  king  then  gives  the  young  man  his 
daughter  in  marriage. 

In  the  German  version  cited  by  Keightley  (the  tale 
of  the  Gaudeif,  or  Thief,  in  Grimm’s  collection),  the 
pupil  is  sold,  in  like  manner,  as  a horse,  the  father  also 
parting  with  the  bridle.  When  he  gets  the  bridle  off, 
he  changes  himself  into  a sparrow,  and  is  pursued  by 
his  master,  also  as  a sparrow.  They  then  become  fishes  : 
finally,  the  master  is  a cock,  and  the  pupil,  as  a fox, 
bites  his  head  off. — In  an  Austrian  version,  the  last 
metamorphosis  of  the  master  is  into  a grain  of  oats, 
which  is  gobbled  up  by  the  pupil,  in  the  form  of  a 
cock,  and  thus  an  end  of  the  magician. 

There  are,  it  will  be  seen,”  remarks  Keightley, 
‘‘some  points  of  resemblance  in  these  different  tales, 
but  perhaps  hardly  sufficient  to  justify  an  assertion  of 
one  being  borrowed  from  another.  Yet  possibly,”  he 
adds,  “the  Arabian  story  had  reached  Venice.”  (Pp. 
123,  124.) 


MAGICAL  TRANSFORMATIONS. 


417 


That  many  Eastern  fictions  were  imported  into  Italy 
in  the  16th  century  there  is  every  reason  to  believe ; 
but  I do  not  think  this  was  one  of  them,  since  the  first 
incident,  the  selling  of  the  horse  with  the  bridle,  is 
found  in  a separate  tale  in  the  ' Arabian  Nights,’  as 
Keightley  himself  was  aware ; while  not  only  in  Ger- 
many and  Austria,  but  in  Denmark  and  Norway  also, 
the  magical  conflict  ” is  current  in  a form  similar  to 
that  of  Straparola’s  story ; and  I am  rather  disposed  to 
consider  that  it  was  introduced  into  the  south  of  Europe 
by  the  Norsemen,  than  that  it  travelled  from  the  South 
to  the  North. 

The  bridle  ” incident  occurs  in  the  Arabian  tale  of 
Julnar  of  the  Sea  and  her  Son.  Queen  Lab,  a sor- 
ceress, having  attempted  to  transform  King  Badr 
Bassim  and  failed,  because  he  had  taken  precautions 
by  the  advice  of  Abdallah  the  grocer,  who  was  skilled 
in  white  ” magic  (which  is  not  regarded  as  unlawful 
by  Muslims),  and  who  had  also  instructed  him  how  to 
turn  the  tables  on  her,  the  story  thus  proceeds,  accord- 
ing to  Sir  E.  E.  Burton’s  new  translation : 

Badr  Bassim  took  water  in  his  palm  and  threw  it 
in  her  face,  saying,  Quit  this  human  form  and  take 
'that  of  a dapple  mule.”  No  sooner  had  he  spoken 
than  she  found  herself  changed  into  a she  - mule, 
whereupon  the  tears  ran  down  her  cheeks,  and  she 
fell  to  rubbing  her  muzzle  against  his  feet.  Then  he 
would  have  bridled  her,  but  she  would  not  take  the 
bit.  So  he  left  her,  and  going  to  the  grocer,  told  him 
what  had  passed.  Abdallah  brought  out  for  him  a 

VOL.  I.  2d 


418 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


bridle,  and  bade  him  rein  her  forthwith.  So  he  took 
it  to  the  palace,  and  when  she  saw  him,  she  came  up 
to  him,  and  he  set  the  bit  in  her  mouth,  and  mounting 
her,  rode  forth  to  find  the  shaykh.  But  when  the 
old  man  saw  her,  he  rose  and  said  to  her,  “ Almighty 
Allah  confound  thee,  0 accursed  woman ! ’’  Then 
quoth  he  to  Badr,  0 my  son,  there  is  no  more  tarry- 
ing for  thee  in  this  city ; so  ride  her,  and  fare  with 
her  whither  thou  wilt ; and  beware  lest  thou  commit 
the  bridle  to  any.”  King  Badr  thanked  him,  and 
farewelling  him,  fared  on  three  days  without  ceasing 
till  he  drew  near  another  city,  and  there  met  him  an 
old  man,  grey-headed  and  comely,  who  said,  ''  Whence 
comest  thou,  0 my  son  ? ” Badr  replied,  “ From  the 
city  of  this  wretch.”  And  the  old  man  said,  ''  Thou 
art  my  guest  to-night.”  He  consented,  and  went  with 
him ; but  by  the  way,  behold  ! they  met  an  old  woman, 
who  wept  when  she  saw  the  mule,  and  said,  “Verily 
this  mule  resembleth  my  son’s  she -mule,  which  is 
dead,  and  my  heart  acheth  for  her.  So,  Allah  upon 
thee,  0 my  lord,  do  thou  sell  her  to  me.”  He  replied, 
“By  Allah,  0 my  mother,  I cannot  sell  her.”  But 
she  cried,  “ Allah  upon  thee ! do  not  refuse  my  re- 
quest ; for  my  son  will  surely  be  a dead  man  except 
I bring  him  this  mule.”  And  she  importuned  him 
till  he  exclaimed,  “ I will  not  sell  her  save  for  a 
thousand  dinars;”  ^ saying  in  himself,  “Whence  should 
this  old  woman  get  a thousand  gold  pieces  ? ” There- 
upon she  brought  out  from  her  girdle  a purse  con- 

1 About  five  hundred  pounds. 


MAGICAL  TRANSFOKMATIONS. 


419 


taining  a thousand  ducats,  which  when  King  Badr 
Bassim  saw,  he  said,  ''  0 my  mother,  I did  but  jest 
with  thee.  I cannot  sell  her.”  But  the  old  man 
looked  at  him  and  said,  ''  0 my  son,  in  this  city  none 
may  lie ; for  whoso  lieth  they  put  to  death.”  So  King 
Badr  Bassim  dismounted  and  delivered  the  mule  to 
the  old  woman,  and  she  drew  the  bit  from  her  mouth, 
and  taking  water  in  her  hand,  sprinkled  the  mule 
therewith,  saying,  “ 0 my  daughter,  quit  this  shape 
for  that  which  thou  wast  aforetime.”  Upon  that  she 
was  straightway  restored  to  her  original  semblance, 
and  the  two  women  embraced  and  kissed  each  other. 
So  King  Badr  Bassim  knew  that  the  old  woman  was 
Queen  Lab’s  mother,  and  that  he  had  been  tricked, 
and  would  have  fled,  when  the  old  woman  whistled  a 
loud  whistle,  and  her  call  was  obeyed  by  an  Ifrit, 
as  he  were  a great  mountain ; ^ whereat  Badr  was 
affrighted  and  stood  still.  Then  the  old  woman 
mounted  on  the  Ifrft’s  back,  taking  her  daughter 

^ Demons  of  this  species  often  figure  in  Arabian  romances,  and  we 
have  met  with  them  more  than  once  in  the  preceding  papers.  A 
Persian  poet  has  thus  graphically  sketched  the  likeness  of  one  of 
these  formidable  beings  : 

He  was  an  Ifrit,  created  from  mouth  to  foot  by  the  wrath  of  God. 

His  hair  like  a bear’s,  his  teeth  like  a boar’s.  No  one  ever  beheld  such  a 
monster. 

Crook-backed  and  crabbed-faced,  he  might  be  scented  at  the  distance  of  a 
thousand  parsangs. 

His  nostrils  were  like  the  ovens  of  brick-burners,  and  his  mouth  resembled  the 
vat  of  a dyer. 

For  a full  account  of  the  nature  of  the  jinn,  ifrits,  etc.  see  Lane’s 
‘ Arabian  Nights,’  vol.  i.  pp.  26-33. 


420 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


behind  her  and  King  Badr  Bassim  before  her,  and  the 
Ifrit  flew  off  with  them.^ 

To  return  to  the  magical  conflict.”  In  the  Nor- 
wegian version,  the  pupil  of  Farmer  Weathersky,  hav- 
ing become  what  his  mother  wished,  ‘‘the  master  of 
all  masters,”  she  wouldn’t  rest  till  he  gave  a proof 
of  his  magical  skill.  So  when  the  fair  came  round 
the  lad  changed  himself  into  a horse,  and  told  his 
father  to  lead  him  to  the  fair.  “ Now  when  any  one 
comes,”  he  said,  “ to  buy  me,  you  may  ask  a hundred 
dollars  for  me  ; but  mind  you  don’t  forget  to  take  the 
headstall  off  me — if  you  do.  Farmer  Weathersky  will 
keep  me  for  ever,  for  he  it  is  who  will  come  to  deal 
with  you.”  So  it  turned  out.  Up  came  a horsedealer 
who  had  a great  wish  to  deal  for  a horse,  and  he 
gave  a hundred  dollars  down  for  him ; but  when  the 
bargain  was  struck,  and  Jack’s  father  had  pocketed 
the  money,  the  horsedealer  wanted  to  have  the  head- 
stall.  “ Nay,  nay,”  said  the  man,  “ there’s  nothing 
about  that  in  the  bargain ; and,  besides,  you  can’t  have 
the  headstall,  for  I’ve  other  horses  at  home  to  bring 
to  town  to-morrow.”  So  each  went  his  way;  but  they 
hadn’t  gone  far  before  Jack  took  his  own  shape  and 


^ ‘ A Plain  and  Literal  Translation  of  the  “ Arabian  Nights  Enter- 
tainments,” now  entituled  “ The  Book  of  the  Thousand  Nights  and  a 
Night.”  With  Introduction,  Explanatory  Notes  on  the  Manners  and 
Customs  of  Moslem  Men,  and  a Terminal  Essay  upon  the  History  of 
‘‘The  Nights.”  By  Richard  F.  Burton.  [In  ten  volumes.]  Ben- 
ares.'; MDCCCLXXXV.  Printed  by  the  Kamashastra  Society  for  Private 
Subscribers  only.’  Vol.  vii.  pp.  304,  305. 


MAGICAL  TRANSFOKMATIONS. 


421 


ran  away,  and  when  his  father  got  home,  there  sat 
Jack  in  the  ingle.  Next  day  he  turned  himself  into 
a brown  horse,  and  told  his  father  to  drive  him  to 
the  fair : ''  And  when  any  one  comes  to  buy  me,’’  said 
he,  “ you  may  ask  two  hundred  dollars  for  me — he’ll 
give  that,  and  treat  you  besides;  but  whatever  you 
do,  and  however  much  you  drink,  don't  forget  to  take 
the  headstall  off  me,  else  you’ll  never  set  eyes  on  me 
again.”  So  all  happened  as  he  had  said:  the  man 
got  two  hundred  dollars  for  the  horse,  and  a glass 
of  drink  besides,  and  when  the  buyer  and  seller  parted 
it  was  as  much  as  he  could  do  to  remember  to  take 
off  the  headstall.  But  the  buyer  and  the  horse 
hadn’t  got  far  on  the  road  before  Jack  took  his 
own  shape,  and  when  his  father  got  home,  there  sat 
Jack  in  the  ingle.  The  third  day  it  was  the  same 
story  over  again ; the  lad  turned  himself  into  a black 
horse,  and  told  his  father  some  one  would  come  and 
bid  him  three  hundred  dollars  for  him,  and  fill  his 
skin  with  meat  and  drink  besides.  But  however 
much  he  ate  or  drank,  he  was  to  mind  and  not  forget 
to  take  the  headstall  off,  else  he’d  have  to  stay  with 
Farmer  Weathersky  all  his  life  long.  ''No,  no.  I’ll 
not  forget — never  fear,”  said  his  father.  So  when  he 
came  to  the  fair,  he  got  three  hundred  dollars  for  the 
horse;  and  as  it  wasn’t  a dry  bargain.  Farmer  Weather- 
sky  made  him  drink  so  much  that  he  quite  forgot 
to  take  the  headstall  off,  and  away  went  Farmer 
Weathersky  with  the  horse. 

Now  when  he  had  gone  a little  way,  he  thought  he 


422 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


would  just  stop  and  have  another  glass  of  brandy ; so 
he  put  a barrel  of  red-hot  nails  under  his  horse’s  nose, 
and  a sieve  of  oats  under  his  tail,  hung  the  halter  upon 
a hook,  and  went  into  the  inn.  So  the  horse  stood 
there,  and  stamped  and  pawed,  and  snorted  and  roared. 
Just  then  came  a lassie,  who  thought  it  a shame  to 
treat  a horse  so.  0 poor  beastie ! ” she  said ; ''  what 
a cruel  master  you  must  have  to  treat  you  so ! ” and 
as  she  said  this,  she  pulled  the  halter  off  the  hook,  so 
that  the  horse  might  turn  round  and  taste  the  oats. 
''  I’m  after  you  ! ” roared  Farmer  Weathersky ; but  the 
horse  had  already  shaken  off  the  headstall  and  jumped 
into  a duck-pond,  where  he  turned  himself  into  a tiny 
fish.  In  went  Farmer  Weathersky  after  him,  and 
turned  himself  into  a pike.  Then  Jack  turned  him- 
self into  a dove,  and  Farmer  Weathersky  became  a 
hawk,  and  chased  and  struck  at  the  dove.  But  just 
then  the  princess  stood  at  the  window  of  the  palace 
and  saw  this  struggle.  ''  Ah,  poor  dove ! ” she  cried, 
‘'if  you  only  knew  what  I know,  you’d  fly  to  me 
through  this  window.”  So  the  dove  came  flying  in 
through  the  window,  and  turned  himself  into  Jack 
again,  who  told  her  his  own  tale.  “ Turn  yourself  into 
a gold  ring,”  said  the  princess,  “ and  put  yourself  on 
my  finger.”  Quoth  Jack,  “ Nay,  nay,  that’ll  never  do ; 
for  Farmer  Weathersky  will  make  the  king  sick,  and 
then  there’ll  be  no  one  who  can  make  him  well  again 
till  Farmer  Weathersky  comes  and  cures  him;  and 
then  for  his  fee  he’ll  ask  that  gold  ring.”  The  princess 
replied,  “ Then  I’ll  say  I had  it  from  my  mother,  and 


MAGICAL  TKANSFOEMATIONS. 


423 


can’t  part  with  it.”  So  Jack  turned  himself  into  a 
gold  ring,  and  put  himself  on  the  finger  of  the  princess  ; 
and  so  Farmer  Weathersky  couldn’t  get  at  him.  But 
then  followed  what  the  lad  had  foretold : the  king  fell 
sick,  and  there  wasn’t  a doctor  in  the  kingdom  who 
could  cure  him  till  Farmer  Weathersky  came  and 
asked  for  the  ring  off  the  princess’  finger  for  his  fee. 
So  the  king  sent  a messenger  to  the  princess  for  the 
ring ; but  she  said  she  wouldn’t  part  with  it,  for  her 
mother  had  left  it  her.  When  the  king  heard  that  he 
flew  into  a rage,  and  said  he  would  have  the  ring, 
whoever  left  it  her.  ''Well,”  said  the  princess,  "it’s 
no  good  being  cross  about  it.  I can’t  get  it  off,  and  if 
you  must  have  the  ring,  you  must  take  my  finger  too.” 
" If  you’ll  let  me  try,  I’ll  soon  get  the  ring  off,”  said 
Farmer  Weathersky.  "No,  thanks;  I’ll  try  myself,” 
said  the  princess,  and  flew  to  the  grate  and  put  ashes 
on  her  finger.  Then  the  ring  slipped  off,  and  was  lost 
among  the  ashes.  So  Farmer  Weathersky  turned  him- 
self into  a cock,  and  scratched  and  pecked  after  the 
ring  in  the  grate  till  he  was  up  to  the  eyes  in  ashes. 
But  while  he  was  doing  this.  Jack  changed  himself 
into  a fox,  and  bit  off  the  cock’s  head ; and  if  the  Evil 
One  was  in  Farmer  Weathersky,  it  is  all  over  with 
him  now.^ 

In  the  Danish  version  the  lad’s  master  in  magic  is 
a Troll-man,  and  his  first  exploit  is  to  change  himself 

^ Dasent’s  ^ Popular  Tales  from  the  Norse.’  Second  edition,  pp. 
335-339. 


424 


POPULAK  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


into  a beautiful  little  dog,  which  his  father  sells  for  a 
considerable  sum  to  the  occupants  of  a fine  carriage 
that  came  rolling  past;  at  the  same  instant  the  son 
changes  his  father  into  a hare,  and  in  the  form  of  the 
dog  chases  it,  and  both  disappear  in  a wood,  when 
father  and  son  assume  human  forms  and  return  home. 
After  all  the  money  was  spent,  the  youth  said  to  his 
father,  ‘'Now  I will  turn  myself  into  a boar,  and  you 
must  put  a cord  round  my  leg  and  take  me  to  Horsens 
market  for  sale ; but  remember  to  throw  the  cord  over 
my  right  ear  at  the  moment  you  sell  me,  and  then  I 
shall  be  home  again  as  soon  as  you.”  The  peasant  did 
as  his  son  directed  him,  and  went  to  market;  and 
there  at  length  sold  the  boar  at  a high  price  to  an  old 
man  (who  was  none  other  than  the  magician),  taking 
care  to  throw  the  cord  over  its  right  ear  as  the  lad  had 
told  him,  and  in  the  same  moment  the  animal  van- 
ished, and  when  he  reached  his  own  home  again,  there 
was  his  son  sitting  at  the  table.  They  now  lived  a 
merry  life  until  all  their  money  was  spent,  and  then 
again  set  out  on  fresh  adventures.  This  time  the  lad 
changed  himself  into  a bull,  first  reminding  his  father 
to  throw  the  rope  over  his  right  horn  as  soon  as  he 
was  sold.  At  the  market  he  met  with  the  same  old 
man,  and  soon  came  to  an  agreement  with  him  about 
the  price  of  the  bull.  While  they  were  drinking  a 
glass  at  the  alehouse,  the  father  threw  the  rope  over 
the  bulks  right  horn,  and  when  the  magician  went  to 
fetch  his  purchase  it  had  disappeared,  and  the  peasant 


MAGICAL  TRANSFOKMATIONS. 


425 


on  reaching  home  again  found  his  son  sitting  beside 
his  mother  at  the  table. 

The  lad  next  turned  himself  into  a horse,  and  the 
magician  was  again  in  the  market  and  bought  him. 

Thou  hast  already  tricked  me  twice,”  said  he  to  the 
peasant,  but  it  shall  not  happen  again ; ” and  before 
he  paid  down  the  money  he  hired  a stable  and  fastened 
the  horse  in,  so  that  it  was  impossible  for  the  peasant 
to  throw  the  rein  over  the  animaTs  right  ear.  The 
old  man,  nevertheless,  returned  home,  in  the  hope  that 
this  time  also  he  should  find  his  son ; but  he  was  dis- 
appointed, for  no  lad  was  there.  The  magician  in  the 
meantime  mounted  the  horse  and  rode  off.  He  well 
knew  whom  he  had  bought,  and  determined  that  the 
lad  should  pay  with  his  life  for  the  deception  he  had 
practised  upon  him.  He  rode  the  horse  through 
swamps  and  pools,  until  at  length  he  himself  was 
tired  and  went  home.  When  he  arrived  there,  he  put 
a magic  bridle  on  the  horse  and  shut  him  in  a dark 
stable,  without  giving  him  anything  to  eat  or  drink. 
After  some  time  had  elapsed,  he  said  to  the  servant- 
maid,  Go  out  and  see  how  the  horse  is ; ” and  when 
she  went  into  the  stable  the  horse  began  to  moan 
piteously,  and  begged  her  to  give  him  a pail  of  water. 
She  did  so,  and  on  her  return  told  her  master  that  the 
horse  was  well.  Some  time  after,  he  again  desired  her 
to  go  and  see  if  the  horse  was  not  yet  dead.  When 
she  entered  the  stable  the  poor  animal  begged  her  to 
loose  the  bridle  and  the  girths,  which  were  strapped 


426 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


SO  tight  that  he  could  hardly  draw  breath.  The  girl 
did  as  she  was  requested,  and  no  sooner  was  it  done 
than  the  horse  was  changed  into  a hare  and  ran  out  of 
the  stable. 

The  magician,  who  was  sitting  at  the  window,  was 
immediately  aware  of  what  had  happened  on  seeing 
the  hare  go  springing  across  the  yard,  and,  in  a mo- 
ment changing  himself  into  a dog,  went  in  pursuit  of 
it.  When  they  had  run  many  miles  over  corn-fields 
and  meadows,  the  hare’s  strength  began  to  fail,  and 
the  magician  gained  more  and  more  upon  him.  The 
hare  then  changed  into  a dove,  but  the  magician  as 
quickly  turned  himself  into  a hawk  and  renewed  his 
pursuit.  In  this  manner  they  fiew  towards  a palace 
where  a princess  was  sitting  at  a window.  When  she 
saw  a hawk  in  chase  of  a dove  she  opened  the  window, 
and  immediately  the  dove  fiew  into  the  room,  and  then 
changed  itself  into  a gold  ring.  The  magician  now 
became  a prince,  and  went  into  the  apartment  for  the 
purpose  of  catching  the  dove.  When  he  could  not 
find  it,  he  asked  permission  to  see  her  rings.  The 
princess  showed  them  to  him,  but  let  one  fall  into  the 
fire.  The  Troll-man  instantly  drew  it  out,  and  in  so 
doing  burnt  his  fingers,  and  was  obliged  to  let  it  fall 
on  the  fioor.  Then  the  ring  became  a grain  of  corn, 
and  at  the  same  instant  the  magician  turned  himself 
into  a hen  in  order  to  eat  the  corn,  but  scarcely  had 
he  done  so  than  the  lad  became  a hawk  and  killed 
him.  He  then  went  to  the  forest,  fetched  all  the 


MAGICAL  TEANSFORMATIONS. 


427 


magician’s  gold  and  silver,  and  from  that  day  lived  in 
wealth  and  happiness  with  his  parents^ 

A similar  but  briefer  conflict  is  waged  between  the 
hero  and  a species  of  griffin,  called  the  Tree  Lion,  in 
the  Gaelic  story  of  the  Fair  Gruagach,  son  of  the  king 
of  Eirinn : ''  When  they  were  on  forward  a short  dis- 
tance, whom  saw  they  coming  but  the  Tree  Lion.  He 
became  a bull;  the  Fair  Chief  became  a bull  before 
him,  and  the  first  blow  he  struck  him  he  laid  his  head 
on  his  side,  and  the  Tree  Lion  gave  out  a roar.  Then 
he  sprang  as  an  ass ; the  Fair  Chief  sprang  as  an  ass 
before  him,  and  at  the  first  rush  he  gave  towards  him 
he  took  a mouthful  between  flesh  and  skin.  The  Tree 
Lion  then  sprang  as  a hawk  in  the  wood,  and  he  took 
the  heart  and  liver  out  of  him.  The  Fair  Chief  fell 
down  afterwards ; Fionn  seized  him,  and  he  put  him 
into  the  napkin  [as  had  been  previously  arranged 
between  them],  and  he  cut  a turf,  and  he  put  the 
napkin  under  earth  and  the  turf  upon  it,  and  he 
stood  on  the  turf.  The  wife  of  the  Tree  Lion  came, 
and  the  book  of  witchcraft  was  on  her  back  in  a hay- 
band.  ‘ Eeen,  son  of  Connal,  man  that  never  told  a 
lie,  who  killed  my  comrade  ? ’ ‘I  know  not,  above 
eoHffi,  who  killed  thy  comrade.’  And  she  went  away 


1 Thorpe’s  ‘Yule-Tide  Stories,’  Bohn’s  edition,  pp.  336-339. — The 
incident,  in  the  Norse  version,  of  the  horse  having  a pan  of  red-hot 
nails  at  his  head  and  a bushel  of  oats  at  his  tail  occurs  in  a different 
Norwegian  story  in  Thorpe’s  collection,  “ The  Widow’s  Son,”  p.  295. 


428 


POPULAH  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


in  her  weeping  cry,  and  she  betook  herself  to  distance. 
He  caught  hold  of  the  Fair  Chief,  and  he  lifted  him 
with  him,  and  he  reached  the  castle  in  which  was  the 
Dame  of  the  Fine  Green  Kirtle.”  ^ 

The  oldest  European  form  of  the  Magical  Conflict 
is  doubtless  found  in  the  legend  of  the  birth  of 
Taliesin,  a famous  Welsh  bard,  who  flourished  in  the 
sixth  century,  as  given  in  the  last  of  the  ‘ Mabinogion,’ 
translated  by  Lady  Charlotte  Guest : 

Ceridwen,  the  wife  of  Tegid  Voel,  having  prepared 
a magical  concoction  in  order  to  render  her  ugly  son 
Aragddu  all-knowing,  and  thus  compensate  him  for 
his  physical  defects,  she  set  the  cauldron  containing 
it  upon  the  fire,  and  put  Gwion  Bach,  the  son  of 
Gureang,  to  stir  the  ingredients,  and  a blind  man 
named  Morda  to  kindle  the  fire  beneath  the  cauldron, 
charging  them  on  their  peril  not  to  suffer  it  to  cease 
boiling  for  the  space  of  a year  and  a day.  All  went 
well  until  near  the  end  of  the  year,  when  Ceridwen 
being  absent  one  day  culling  plants  of  magic  virtue, 
three  drops  of  the  Water  of  Inspiration  flew  out  of  the 
cauldron  and  fell  upon  the  finger  of  Gwion  Bach,  and 
by  reason  of  their  great  heat  he  put  his  finger  to  his 
mouth,  and  instantly  perceived  all  that  was  to  happen, 
and  that  he  must  guard  againt  the  wiles  of  Ceridwen. 
So  he  fled  towards  his  own  land.  The  cauldron  burst 
into  pieces  and  the  charmed  liquor  was  all  lost.  When 
Ceridwen  returned  and  saw  what  had  happened,  she 
^ Campbell’s  ‘ Tales  of  the  West  Highlands,’  vol.  ii.  p.  423. 


MAGICAL  TRANSFOKMATIONS. 


42S 


struck  blind  Morda  on  the  head  with  a billet  of  wood, 
upon  which  he  declared  himself  guiltless,  and  then  she 
knew  it  was  Gwion  Bach  who  had  done  it. 

And  she  went  after  him,  running.  And  he  saw  her, 
and  changed  himself  into  a hare  and  fled.  But  she 
changed  herself  into  a greyhound  and  turned  him. 
And  he  ran  towards  a river  and  became  a fish.  And 
she  in  the  form  of  an  otter  chased  him  under  the 
water,  until  he  was  fain  to  turn  himself  into  a bird  of 
the  air.  She,  as  a hawk,  followed  him,  and . gave  him 
no  rest  in  the  sky.  And  just  as  she  was  about  to 
stoop  upon  him,  and  he  was  in  fear  of  death,  he  espied 
a heap  of  winnowed  wheat  on  the  floor  of  a barn,  and 
he  dropped  among  the  wheat  and  turned  himself  into 
one  of  the  grains.  Then  she  formed  herself  into  a 
high- crested  black  hen,  and  went  to  the  wheat  and 
scratched  it  with  her  feet,  and  found  him  out  and 
swallowed  him.  And,  as  the  story  says,  she  bore  him 
nine  months ; and  when  she  was  delivered  of  him,  she 
could  not  find  it  in  her  heart  to  kill  him,  by  reason  of 
his  beauty.  So  she  wrapped  him  in  a leathern  bag 
and  cast  him  into  the  sea  to  the  mercy  of  God,  on  the 
twenty-ninth  day  of  April.^ 

^ ‘ The  Mabinogion.*  From  the  Welsh  of  the  ‘ Llyfr  Coch  o Her- 
gest’  (The  Eed  Book  of  Hergest),  in  the  Library  of  Jesus  College, 
Oxford.  Translated,  with  Notes,  by  Lady  Charlotte  Guest.  London  : 
Quaritch,  1877.  (Last  edition.)  Pp.  471-473. — The  term  “ Mabinogi,” 
Professor  E.  B.  Cowell  has  informed  me,  means  “juvenility,”  from 
mob,  a child ; then  “ juvenile  amusement,”  “ a youth-tale.”  It  is 
properly  the  title  of  four  only  of  Lady  Charlotte  Guest’s  tales — viz., 
“ Owyll,”  “ Branwen,”  “ Manawyddan,”  and  “ Math,”  which  all  form 
one  romance  ; but  the  name  in  the  plural,  “ mabinogion,”  has  been 


430 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


If  this  cycle  of  folk-tales  be,  as  some  comparative 
mythologists  maintain,  survivals  of  a primitive  Aryan 
myth,  then  the  foregoing  Cymric  story,  so  far  as  it 
relates  to  the  Magical  Conflict,  probably  reflects  more 
or  less  faithfully  the  very  tradition  which  the  tribes 
carried  with  them  when  they  first  began  to  migrate  to 
Europe.  “It  might,  I think,”  says  Lady  Charlotte 
Guest,  “ be  shown  that  the  Cymric  nation  is  not  only, 
as  Dr  Prichard  has  proved  it  to  be,  an  early  off-shoot 
of  the  Indo-European  family,  and  a people  of  unmixed 
descent,  but  that,  when  driven  out  of  their  conquests 
by  the  later  nations,  the  names  and  exploits  of  their 
heroes  and  the  compositions  of  their  bards  spread  far 
and  wide  among  the  invaders,  and  affected  intimately 
their  tastes  and  literature  for  many  centuries,  and 
that  it  has  strong  claims  to  be  considered  as  the  cradle 
of  European  romance.”  No  doubt  the  mediaeval 
romances  of  Europe  were  largely  derived  from  ancient 
British  sources,  though  they  also  owed  much  to  the 
Sagas  of  Scandinavia,  and  to  Arabic  fictions ; but  it  is 
not  at  all  likely  that  the  Cymric  story  of  the  magical 
contest  between  Ceridwen  and  little  Gwion  Bach  was 
the  direct  source  of  the  Norse  tale  of  Farmer  Weather- 
sky  and  his  pupil,  or  Straparola’s  version,  with  which 
it  so  closely  corresponds.  We  must  conclude  that  the 
resemblance  between  these  two  versions  is  due  to 
transmission  from  the  North  to  the  South,  or  vice  versd  ; 
or  that  the  story,  like  so  many  others,  reached  Scan- 

improperly  applied  to  all  the  rest.  Properly,  these  four  are  the 
* Mabinogion.’ 


MAGICAL  TKANSFORMATIONS. 


431 


dinavia  through  the  Mongolians,  and  Italy  through 
the  Turks.^  Observe  the  exact  parallel  which  is 
presented  to  both  the  Horse  and  the  Italian  stories  in 
the  following  version  from  Leger's  ' Contes  Albanais  ’ : 

Once  upon  a time  a man  sent  his  son  away  among 
the  devils  to  learn  their  art,  and  at  the  end  of  a year 
he  had  learned  it  so  thoroughly  that  he  knew  more  of 
it  than  his  masters ; so  his  father  went  for  him  and 
brought  him  home.  Then  he  said  to  his  father. 

To-morrow  I intend  to  become  a horse,  with  every 
quality  valued  in  that  animal.  You  will  sell  me  at 
a price  proportionate  to  my  value,  but  take  particular 
care  not  to  give  away  the  bridle  with  me.”  So  next 
day  he  changed  himself  into  a horse,  and  his  father 
took  him  to  market  and  sold  him  for  I know  not  how 
many  thousand  piastres,  taking  care  to  keep  the  bridle. 
But  the  youth,  resuming  his  proper  form,  fled  from 
the  buyer’s  house  and  came  home.  Next  day  there 
was  a new  metamorphosis,  this  time  into  a mule ; and 
his  father  again  set  out  to  sell  him  at  the  market.  The 
devils  with  whom  the  youth  had  studied  came  and 
asked  the  father  what  he  wanted  for  his  mule,  and 
having  agreed  on  the  price,  they  paid  him  the  money. 
Then  quoth  the  father  to  them,  ‘‘  Observe,  I do  not 
give  you  the  bridle.”  The  devils  replied,  “But  we 
must  have  it,”  and  thereupon  a dispute  arose.  The 

^ Many  learned  Icelanders  visited  even  remote  parts  of  the  East 
during  the  middle  ages,  and  they  probably  carried  back  with  them 
some  of  the  fictions  which  have  long  been  domiciled  in  the  north  of 
Europe,  and  which  are  demonstrably  of  Asiatic  extraction. 


432 


POPULAK  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


mule  took  advantage  of  it  to  scamper  off,  and  the 
devils  bolted  in  pursuit.  Seeing  that  he  could  not 
escape,  the  mule  at  once  became  a hare,  and  then  the 
devils  changed  themselves  into  dogs  and  coursed  the 
hare.  When  the  hare  was  about  to  be  caught,  he 
became  an  apple,  which  fell  upon  the  queen’s  table. 
The  dogs  then  took  the  forms  of  dervishes  and  said  to 
the  queen,  In  the  name  of  Heaven,  give  us  that 
apple  which  has  just  fallen  on  your  table  ! For  many 
days  have  we  sweated  blood  and  water  to  obtain  it.” 
The  queen  replied,  “ You  shall  not  be  disgraced  by  a 
refusal.  What ! is  it  for  this  apple  you  have  suffered 
so  much  ? There  it  is — take  it,  and  go  in  peace,”  and 
she  tossed  them  the  apple,  which  instantly  became 
millet,  and  spread  all  over  the  ground.  Upon  this  the 
dervishes  changed  themselves  into  fowls  and  began  to 
pick  up  the  grain.  Then  the  millet  became  a fox, 
which  crunched  up  the  fowls.  So  well  had  the  youth 
learned  the  devils’  art,  that  he  devoured  those  who 
had  taught  him.^ 

In  the  frame-story  of  the  Eelations  of  Siddhi  Kur,^ 
we  have  a Kalmuk  version,  from  an  older  form  of 
which  it  is  possible  the  Norse  story  may  have  been 
derived — for  that  work,  as  it  now  exists,  is  generally 
considered  as  of  comparatively  recent  date : 

1 As  the  story  occurs  also  in  the  Turkish  roma^nce  of  the  ‘ Forty 
Vazirs,’  it  is  highly  probable  that  the  Albanians  derived  it  from  the 
Ottomans. 

2 See  note  on  page  82. 


MAGICAL  TKANSFORMATIONS. 


433 


In  the  kingdom  of  Magadha  there  once  lived  seven 
brothers  who  were  magicians.  At  the  distance  of  a 
mile  from  their  abode  lived  two  brothers,  sons  of  a 
khan.  The  elder  of  these  went  to  the  seven  magicians, 
saying,  Teach  me  to  understand  your  art,'’  and  abode 
with  them  seven  years.  But  though  they  were  always 
setting  him  to  learn  different  tasks,  yet  they  never 
taught  him  the  true  key  to  their  mystic  knowledge. 
His  brother,  however,  coming  to  visit  him  one  day,  by 
merely  looking  through  a crack  in  the  door  of  the 
apartment  in  which  the  seven  brothers  were  at  work, 
acquired  perfectly  all  magical  science.  After  this 
they  both  went  home  together ; the  elder,  because  he 
perceived  he  would  never  learn  anything  of  the  magi- 
cians, and  the  younger,  because  he  had  learned  every- 
thing they  had  to  impart.  As  they  went  along,  the 
younger  brother  said,  ''  Now  that  we  know  all  their 
art,  the  seven  magicians  will  probably  seek  to  do  us 
some  mischief.  Go  thou,  therefore,  to  our  stable, 
which  we  left  empty,  and  thou  shalt  find  there  a 
splendid  steed.  Put  a bridle  on  him,  and  lead  him 
forth  to  sell  him — only  take  care  thou  go  not  out  in 
the  direction  of  the  dwelling  of  the  seven  magicians ; 
and  having  sold  him,  bring  back  the  price  thou  shalt 
have  received."  When  he  had  made  an  end  of  speak- 
ing, he  transformed  himself  into  a horse,  and  went 
and  placed  himself  in  the  stable  awaiting  his  brother's 
arrival. 

But  the  elder  brother,  knowing  that  the  magicians 
had  taught  him  nothing,  stood  in  no  fear  of  them. 

2 E 


VOL.  I. 


434 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


Therefore  he  paid  no  heed  to  the  words  of  his  brother, 
but  saying  to  himself,  '‘As  my  brother  is  so  clever  that 
he  could  conjure  this  fine  horse  into  the  stable,  let  him 
conjure  thither  another  if  he  wants  it  sold — this  one 
I will  ride  myself.”  So  he  saddled  and  mounted  the 
horse ; but  all  his  efforts  to  guide  him  were  vain,  and 
in  spite  of  his  best  endeavours,  the  horse,  impelled  by 
the  power  of  the  magic  of  those  from  whom  the  art 
had  been  learned,  carried  him  straight  to  the  door  of 
the  magicians’  dwelling.  Once  there,  he  was  equally 
unable  to  induce  him  to  stir  away ; the  horse  persist- 
ently stood  before  the  magicians’  door.  When  he 
found  he  could  not  in  any  way  command  the  horse,  he 
determined  to  sell  it  to  them,  asking  a great  sum  for  it. 
The  magicians  readily  knew  that  it  was  a magic  horse, 
and  said  among  themselves,  " If  our  art  is  to  become 
thus  common,  and  everybody  can  produce  a magic 
horse,  no  one  will  come  to  our  market  for  wonders. 
We  had  best  buy  the  horse  up  and  destroy  it.”  Ac- 
cordingly they  paid  the  high  price  required,  and  took 
possession  of  the  horse  and  shut  it  up  in  a dark  stall. 
When  the  time  came  to  slaughter  it,  one  held  it  down 
by  the  tail,  another  by  the  head,  other  four  by  the  four 
legs,  so  that  it  should  in  no  wise  break  away,  while  the 
seventh  bared  his  arm  ready  to  strike  it  with  death. 
When  the  khan’s  son  who  was  transformed  into  the 
horse  perceived  what  was  the  intention  of  the  magi- 
cians, he  thought,  "Would  that  any  sort  of  living 
being  would  appear  into  which  I might  transform  my- 
self ! ” Hardly  had  he  formed  the  wish  when  a little 


MAGICAL  TRANSFOKMATIONS. 


435 


fish  was  seen  swimming  down  the  stream;  into  this 
the  khan’s  son  transformed  himself.  The  seven  magi- 
cians knew  what  had  occurred,  and  immediately  trans- 
formed themselves  into  seven  large  fish  and  pursued 
it.  When  they  were  very  close  to  the  little  fish  with 
their  mouths  wide  open,  the  son  of  the  khan  said 
within  himself,  ''  Would  that  any  sort  of  living  being 
would  appear  into  which  I might  transform  myself  ! ” 
Immediately  a dove  was  seen  flying  in  the  air,  and  the 
khan’s  son  became  a dove.  The  seven  magicians,  see- 
ing what  was  done,  transformed  themselves  into  seven 
hawks,  and  pursued  the  dove  over  hill  and  dale,  and 
they  were  near  overtaking  the  dove  when  it  took  refuge 
in  Land  Bede  Tibet]. 

Southward  in  Bede  was  a shining  mountain,  and  a 
cave  in  it  called  Giver  of  Best.  Hither  the  dove  took 
refuge,  even  in  the  very  bosom  of  the  Great  Master 
and  Teacher  Nagarguna.^  The  seven  hawks,  following 
fast  after  the  dove,  at  the  entrance  of  the  cave  changed 
themselves  into  men  wearing  cotton  garments.  The 
son  of  the  khan  then  became  a bead  of  the  master’s 
chaplet,  and  when  the  men  humbly  requested  the 
master  to  give  them  the  holy  chaplet,  he,  who  knew 
the  whole  affair,  loosened  the  string,  and  putting  in  his 
mouth  the  son  of  the  khan  transformed  into  one  of  the 
beads,  handed  them  the  chaplet ; and  then  dropping 
the  bead  out  of  his  mouth,  it  instantly  became  a man 
armed  with  a great  stick,  and  the  son  of  the  khan  slew 
the  pretended  devotees  but  real  magicians. 

^ The  17th  Patriarch  in  Buddhist  succession,  who  died  b.c.  212. 


436 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


The  story  is  well  known  to  the  people  of  Southern 
India,  and  a version  occurs  in  the  Tamil  romance 
' Madana  Kamaraja  Kadai,’  which  bears  considerable 
resemblance  to  the  European  variants,  and  of  which 
this  is  an  abstract: 

One  of  the  sons  of  a raja,  who  has  lost  his  king- 
dom and  is  reduced  to  poverty,  having  been  instructed 
in  magic  by  a Brahman,  who  is  afterwards  eager  for  his 
destruction,  said  to  his  father  one  day,  in  order  that 
they  should  procure  the  means  of  subsistence,  ''  There 
lives  in  this  city  a rich  merchant  who  has  an  only  son. 
I shall  assume  the  shape  of  a panchakalydni  horse,^ 
and  do  you  walk  with  me  to  the  tank  where  the 
merchant’s  son  will  come  in  the  morning  for  his  bath. 
He  will  take  a liking  for  the  horse  and  ask  his  price. 
You  had  better  demand  a thousand  pagodas.  After 
you  have  parted  with  me,  I shall  contrive  to  escape 
and  return  to  you.”  So  saying,  the  prince  transformed 
himself  into  a horse,  and  stood  before  his  father 
whinneying  pleasantly,  who  took  him  to  the  side  of  the 
tank,  and  sold  him  to  the  merchant’s  son  for  a thousand 
pagodas.  But  the  prince’s  instructor  in  magic  recog- 
nised in  the  horse  his  former  pupil,  and  by  making 
the  merchant’s  son  believe  that  the  animal  was  vicious 
and  most  dangerous  to  ride,  bought  him  of  him  for 
the  same  sum  that  he  had  just  paid  for  him,  and 
then  rode  him  about  till  he  was  almost  dead  with 
fatigue. 

The  transformed  prince,  perceiving  his  old  master 

1 A horse  whose  four  feet  and  forehead  are  white. 


MAGICAL  TKANSFORMATIONS. 


437 


intended  to  kill  him,  became  a fish  in  a tank,  which, 
when  the  master  discovered,  he  caused  all  his  pupils 
to  draw  off  the  water  in  the  tank  and  kill  all  the  fish 
afterwards.  The  prince  then  entered  the  carcase  of  a 
buffalo  ^ which  some  skinners  had  left  on  the  bank  of 
the  pond  while  they  went  to  fetch  their  knives,  and 
began  to  run  away.  Seeing  this,  the  master  made  the 
skinners  give  chase,  when  the  prince  entered  the  dead 
body  of  a parrot  ^ which  he  saw  in  a tree.  Then  the 
master  took  the  form  of  a kite,  and  followed  him  at  a 
furious  speed  over  mountains  and  through  jungles, 
until  at  length  they  came  to  a city.  The  parrot  flew 
towards  the  palace,  and  entered  through  an  open 
window  into  the  chamber  of  the  princess,  who  was 
seated  on  a couch  unloosing  her  hair,  and  alighted  in 
her  lap.  She  was  delighted  at  the  sight  of  the  beauti- 
ful bird,  and  taking  it  up,  kissed  it  and  pressed  it 
fondly  to  her  bosom.  Then  she  placed  the  parrot  in  a 
golden  cage,  and  fed  it  with  dainties.  One  night, 
when  the  princess  was  lain  down  on  her  couch,  the 
young  prince  assumed  his  own  form,  and  told  her  how 
he  was  persecuted  by  his  former  master,  who  would 

^ This  is  not  transformation,  but  voluntary  transmigration — the 
exercise  of  the  magical  art  of  transferring  one’s  soul  into  any  dead 
body,  on  which  is  based  the  frame-story  of  the  Indian  romance  of 
Vikr^maditya  of  Ujjain,  which  is  imitated  in  the  ‘ Bah^r-i  D^nush,’ 
the  Persian  ‘ Thousand  and  One  Days,’  and  the  Turkish  ‘ Forty 
Vazirs.’  It  is  evident  this  Tamil  version  is  garbled  : the  prince  here 
takes  no  precaution  that  the  body  he  is  represented  as  quitting 
should  not  be  discovered  and  burnt ; and  indeed  we  find  him  after- 
wards simply  transforming  himself,  like  the  persecuted  pupil  in  other 
versions. 


438 


POPULAE  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


return  shortly  as  a rope-dancer,  and  having  pleased 
the  king  her  father  with  his  performances,  as  his  sole 
object  was  to  kill  him  (the  prince),  would  demand  the 
parrot.  She  had  better  at  first  refuse,  but  when  her 
servants  come  a second  time  she  should  break  the 
neck  of  the  parrot  and  then  give  it  to  them.  ''  Don’t 
be  afraid  of  having  killed  me,”  added  the  prince ; for 
I shall  instantly  become  a pearl  of  your  necklace. 
The  servants  will  come  once  more,  saying  that  your 
father  requires  your  necklace.  Do  you  then  scatter 
the  pearls  in  the  courtyard,  after  which  you  will  see 
something  very  wonderful.”  All  happens  as  the  young 
prince  had  forecast,  and  when  the  pearls  fell  into  the 
courtyard  they  were  all  changed  into  worms.  The 
magician  saw  that  one  of  these  was  the  prince,  and  at 
once  assumed  the  form  of  a cock,  and  began  to  devour 
the  worms,  whereupon  the  prince  changed  himself  into 
a cat,  and  pouncing  .upon  the  cock,  caught  it  by  the 
neck.  The  cock  in  human  voice  calls  out  for  help, 
and  the  king  now  interfering,  learns  the  whole  story 
from  the  prince,  on  whom  the  king  most  willingly 
bestows  his  lovely  daughter.  The  magician  repents  of 
his  crimes  and  is  reconciled  to  the  prince,  who  after- 
wards drove  the  usurper  of  his  father’s  throne  out  of 
the  country,  and  ruled  over  it  many  years  in  peace 
and  prosperit/.^ 

It  will  be  very  evident  on  a comparative  analysis 
of  the  several  stories  above  cited,  that  they  have  all 
^ S.  M.  Nat^sa  Sdstri’s  ‘ Dravidian  Nights,’  pp.  8-18. 


MAGICAL  TEANSFORMATIONS. 


439 


been  derived,  mediately  or  immediately,  from  one 
source.  Although  they  are  found  to  differ  more  or 
less  one  from  another  in  the  several  metamorphoses 
and  their  sequence,  yet  they  all  possess  some  incid- 
ents in  common.  Thus,  the  transformation  into  a 
horse  occurs  in  the  Italian,  German,  Austrian,  second 
Arabic  (a  she-mule),  Norse,  Danish,  Albanian,  Kal- 
muk,  and  Tamil.  The  fish,  in  the  first  Arabic,  Italian, 
German,  Austrian,  Norse,  Welsh,  Kalmuk,  and  Tamil. 
The  hare  and  hound,  in  the  Danish,  Welsh,  and  Al- 
banian. The  bird  and  hawk,  in  the  Norse,  Danish, 
Welsh,  Kalmuk,  and  Tamil.  The  grain  of  seed,  in  the 
Italian,  Austrian,  and  Welsh;  the  worm,  in  the  first 
Arabic  and  the  Tamil ; the  ring,  in  the  Italian,  Norse, 
and  Danish ; the  cock  and  fox,  in  the  Italian,  Norse, 
Albanian,  and  Tamil.  The  pursued  bird  flies  in  at 
the  palace- window  in  the  Norse,  Danish,  and  Tamil ; 
into  the  cell  of  a devotee,  in  the  Kalmuk ; and  in  the 
form  of  an  apple  in  the  Albanian  version. 


Akin  to  the  Magical- Conflict  cycle  are  stories  in 
which  the  hero  is  pursued  by  a fierce  giant,  or  demon, 
and  escapes  by  means  of  certain  objects  which,  thrown 
behind  him  on  his  track,  are  instantly  transformed 
into  obstacles  difficult  or  impossible  to  be  overcome 
by  the  enemy.  Sometimes  the  hero  is  running  away 
with  a giant’s  beautiful  daughter  who  has  become 
deeply  enamoured  of  him,  and  it  is  through  her 
supernatural  skill  that  he  is  enabled  to  baffle  the 


440 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


giant’s  repeated  attempts  to  re-capture  him.  Of  this 
class  is  the  Gaelic  story,  in  Campbeirs  collection,  en- 
titled ''The  Battle  of  the  Birds,”  in  which  a king’s 
son  wishes  to  marry  the  youngest  daughter  of  a giant, 
and  having  accomplished,  by  the  help  of  the  damsel 
herself,  three  difficult  tasks  which  the  giant  sets  him 
to  do  before  he  will  give  his  consent,  at  night  the 
giant’s  daughter  tells  the  prince  that  they  must  fly,  or 
her  father  would  kill  him.  So  they  mounted  on  the 
grey  filly  in  the  stable.  But  before  starting  the 
daughter  cut  an  apple  into  nine  shares : she  put  two 
at  the  head  of  the  bed,  two  at  the  foot,  two  at  the 
door  of  the  kitchen,  two  at  the  house-door,  and  one 
outside  the  house.  The  giant  awoke  and  called,  " Are 
you  asleep  ? ” several  times,  and  the  shares  answered 
" No.”  At  last  he  went  and  found  the  bed  empty  and 
cold,  and  pursued  the  fugitive  couple.  At  the  break 
of  day  the  giant’s  daughter  felt  her  father’s  breath 
burning  her  back.  She  told  the  prince  to  put  his 
hand  in  the  horse’s  ear,  and  fling  what  he  found  be- 
hind him.  He  found  a sprig  of  sloe,  flung  it  behind 
him,  and  produced  a wood  twenty  miles  long.  The 
giant  had  to  go  back  for  his  axe  and  wood-knife.  In 
the  middle  of  the  day  the  prince  finds  in  the  horse’s 
ear  a piece  of  gray  stone.  This  produces  twenty  miles 
of  gray  rock  behind  him,  and  the  giant  has  to  go  back 
for  his  lever  and  mattock.  When  the  giant  has  cut 
his  way  through  this  second  obstacle,  the  next  thing 
the  prince  finds  in  the  filly’s  ear  and  flings  behind  him 
is  a bladder  of  water,  which  produces  a fresh-water 


MAGICAL  TRANSFORMATIONS. 


441 


loch  twenty  miles  broad,  and  in  it  the  giant  is  fortun- 
ately drowned.^ 

A horse  takes  the  place  of  the  giant’s  daughter  as 
mentor  in  a similar  adventure  of  the  hero  of  a Norse 
tale,  to  which  reference  has  been  already  made  in  com- 
paring stories  of  Forbidden  Eooms,  pp.  203-205.  The 
widow’s  son  having,  by  the  horse’s  advice,  taken  the 
whip  of  thorn,  the  stone,  and  the  water-flask,  he 
mounted  his  equine  friend  and  rode  off  at  a rapid 
rate.  After  riding  some  time,  the  horse  said,  ‘'I 
think  I hear  a noise;  look  round,  can  you  see  any- 
thing?” The  youth  answered,  ''A  great  many  are 
coming  after  us,  certainly  a score  at  least.”  Quoth 
the  horse,  That  is  the  Troll ; he  is  coming  with  all 
his  companions.”  They  travelled  on  for  some  time 
until  their  pursuers  were  gaining  on  them.  Throw 
now  the  thorn-whip  over  your  shoulder,”  said  the 
horse,  “ but  throw  it  far  away  from  me.”  When  the 
youth  had  done  what  the  horse  desired,  there  sprang 
up  a large  thick  wood  of  briars.  Then  the  youth  rode 
a long  way,  while  the  Troll  was  obliged  to  go  home 
for  something  wherewith  to  hew  a road  through  the 
wood.  After  some  time  the  horse  again  said,  ''Look 
back,  can  you  see  anything  now  ? ” The  youth  re- 
plied, “ Yes,  a whole  multitude  of  people,  like  a 
church  congregation.”  Quoth  the  horse,  ''Ah,  that 
is  the  Troll ; now  he  has  got  more  with  him ; so  throw 


Campbell’s  ‘ Tales  of  the  West  Highlands,’  vol.  i.  pp.  32-34. 


442 


POPULAE  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


out  the  large  stone,  but  throw  it  far  from  me.”  The 
youth  did  so,  and  instantly  there  arose  a large  moun- 
tain behind  them.  So  the  Troll  was  obliged  to  go 
home  for  something  with  which  to  bore  through  the 
mountain ; and  while  he  was  thus  employed  the  youth 
rode  on  a considerable  W’ay.  But  now  the  horse  again 
bade  him  look  back ; he  then  saw  a multitude  like  a 
whole  army — they  were  so  bright  that  they  glittered  in 
the  sun.  ''Well, that  is  the  Troll  with  all  his  friends,” 
said  the  horse.  " Now  throw  the  water-bottle  behind 
you,  and  take  good  care  to  spill  nothing  on  me.”  The 
youth  did  so,  but  notwithstanding  his  caution,  he  hap- 
pened to  spill  a drop  on  the  horse’s  hips.  Immedi- 
ately there  appeared  a vast  lake,  and  the  spilling  of  a 
drop  caused  the  horse  to  stand  far  out  in  the  water ; 
nevertheless  he  at  last  swam  to  the  shore.  When  the 
Trolls  came  to  the  water  they  lay  down  to  drink  it 
all  up,  and  they  gulped  and  gulped  it  down  till  they 
all  burst.^ 

A very  striking  resemblance  to  these  incidents  is 
found  in  a story  in  the  ' Katha  Sarit  Sagara,’  chap.  39. 
The  daughter  of  a rakshasa  having  performed  for  her 
lover  the  tasks  which  her  father  appointed  him  (see 

^ Thorpe’s  ' Yule-Tide  Stories  ’ (Bohn’s  ed. ),  pp.  295,  296. — Simi- 
lar incidents  occur  in  one  of  Powell  and  Magnusson’s  ' Icelandic  Le- 
gends.’ In  Carleton’s  ‘Traits  and  Stories  of  the  Irish  Peasantry,’ 
a sprig,  a pebble,  and  a drop  of  water  produce  a wood,  a rock,  and  a 
lake.  And  in  the  Sicilian  story  of  Fata  Morgana,  a prince  is  pursued 
by  her  and  two  lions.  He  throws  successively  three  pomegranates 
behind  him : one  produces  a river  of  blood,  the  second  a thorny 
mountain,  and  the  third  a volcano. 


MAGICAL  TRANSFORMATIONS. 


443 


ante,  p.  239),  the  demon,  in  order  to  cause  the  hero’s 
destruction,  despatches  him  to  his  fierce  brother,  who 
lived  at  two  yojanas  (about  sixteen  miles)  distant,  to 
invite  him  to  his  daughter’s  marriage.  The  damsel 
gives  him,  before  setting  out,  some  earth,  some  water, 
and  some  thorns,  bidding  him  deliver  his  message,  and 
at  once  return  at  full  gallop,  but  look  often  behind 
him,  and  should  he  see  the  demon  coming  after  him, 
throw  these  things  successively  in  his  way.  The  youth 
rode  off,  and  after  delivering  his  message,  fled  from  the 
place  at  full  speed.  And  as  soon  as  he  turned  his 
head  and  looked  round,  he  saw  the  demon  coming  after 
him,  so  he  quickly  threw  the  earth  behind  him,  and 
immediately  produced  a great  mountain.  When  he 
saw  that  the  rakshasa  had,  with  much  labour,  climbed 
over  the  mountain  and  was  coming  on,  he  threw  the 
water  behind  him,  and  it  produced  a great  river  in  his 
path  with  rolling  waves.  The  rakshasa  with  difficulty 
got  across  it,  and  was  coming  on,  when  the  youth 
quickly  scattered  the  thorns  behind  him,  and  they 
produced  a dense  thorny  wood  in  the  rakshasa’s  path. 
When  the  demon  emerged  from  it,  the  prince  threw 
the  fire  behind  him^  which  set  on  fire  the  path  with 
the  herbs  and  the  trees ; and  the  demon,  seeing  that  it 
was  hard  to  cross,  returned  home  tired  and  terrified. 


In  the  Magical-Conflict  cycle  of  stories  the  meta- 
morphoses are  effected  by  the  combatants  in  their  own 
persons.  It  now  remains  to  notice  some  other  kinds 


444 


POPULAK  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


of  transformations,  in  which  sorcerers  or  magicians 
change  their  victims  into  the  forms  of  various  animals, 
and  of  which  we  have  already  had  one  example,  from 
the  ‘ Arabian  Nights,’  in  the  case  of  King  Badr  Bassim 
and  Queen  Lab  (p.  417).  The  Arabic  language  has 
distinct  terms  for  various  metamorphoses:  naskh  is 
change  from  a lower  to  a higher  form,  as  beast  to 
man ; maskh  is  the  reverse ; raskh  is  from  animate  to 
inanimate  (see  ante,  pp.  168, 169) ; and  faskh  is  wasting 
away.  The  methods  adopted  in  fictions  to  effect  such 
changes  are  various.  For  instance,  in  the  ‘Katha 
Sarit  Sagara’  a witch  teaches  a young  woman  two 
spells,  by  reciting  one  of  which  a man  can  be  changed 
in  a moment  into  an  ape,  if  a string  is  fastened  round 
his  neck,  and  on  unloosing  the  string  and  reciting  the 
other  spell,  he  becomes  a man  again ; and  by  sticking 
a pin  in  a man’s  head,  at  the  same  time  uttering  cer- 
tain words,  he  is  transformed  into  a bird,  resuming  his 
proper  shape  when  the  pin  is  withdrawn^ 

^ In  No.  16  of  the  ‘ Decisions  of  Princess  Thoo-Dharma  Tsari,’  a 
Burmese  story-book,  translated  by  Capt.  T.  P.  Sparks  (Maulmain, 
1851),  two  sisters  having  quarrelled  about  the  possession  of  a young 
man  at  length  are  reconciled  and  agree  to  let  him  go,  but  not  in  his 
own  form  : “ They  fastened  a magic  thread  round  the  young  man’s 
neck,  whereupon  he  was  transformed  into  a small  parrot,  and  flew 
away  back  into  his  own  country,  and  settled  in  the  king’s  garden, 
where  he  lived  upon  the  fruit.”  The  bird-catchers  are  employed  to 
snare  the  parrot,  and  having  succeeded,  as  he  was  so  beautiful,  they 
presented  him  to  the  king’s  daughter.  “ The  princess,  continually 
playing  with  the  parrot,  one  day  noticed  the  thread,  and  taking  it  off*, 
he  instantly  became  a handsome  young  man  ; and  when  she  put  it  on 
again  he  was  changed  back  into  a parrot.”  This  discovery,  however, 
led  to  consequences  which  proved  rather  awkward  for  the  amorous 
princess. 


MAGICAL  TRANSFOKMATIONS. 


445 


Sometimes  we  find  certain  fruits  or  grasses  produc- 
ing like  changes  of  form,  as  in  the  Eoman  popular 
tale  cited  on  p.  97,  where  the  hero  by  eating  some 
herbs  that  grew  on  a hill  becomes  a donkey.  A 
very  close  parallel  to  this  is  found  in  the  ‘ Madana 
Kamaraja  Kadai’ : A young  prince,  who  had  been 
treacherously  abandoned  on  an  island  by  a dancing- 
girl  and  her  mother  (who  decamped  with  his  four 
magical  treasures),  climbed  a mango-tree  which  had 
only  four  branches,  and  on  eating  the  fruit  of  one 
of  these  he  was  turned  into  a black  ape ; the  fruit  of 
another  changed  him  into  a kite ; that  of  a third 
transformed  him  into  an  old  woman;  and  on  eating 
of  the  fourth  branch  he  was  restored  to  human  form. 
In  the  ‘ Bahar-i  Danush,’  a young  man,  having  escaped 
from  a demon  who  lived  on  men’s  flesh  and  sheep — 
as  Ulysses  escaped  from  Polyphemus,  by  blinding  him 
with  a red-hot  iron  spike — travelling  through  a forest 
for  several  days  without  food,  found  a nest  contain- 
ing seven  eggs  of  the  size  of  a gourd,  and  each  of  a 
different  colour.  Having  ate  one,  he  continued  his 
journey  for  seven  days,  when,  having  eaten  the  seventh 
egg,  suddenly  beautiful  feathers  of  many  colours,  and 
at  length  wings,  covered  his  body,  and  he  was  able 
to  fly.  One  day,  after  soaring  through  the  air,  he 
alighted  on  a tree  round  which  was  a great  multi- 
tude of  people,  to  whom  he  addressed  himself  as  they 
were  going  to  shoot  him.  On  hearing  his  adventures, 
they  had  compassion,  and  took  him  under  their  pro- 
tection. With  them  he  remained  seven  years,  at  the 


446 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


expiry  of  which  his  wings  and  feathers  fell  off,  and 
he  returned  safely  to  his  own  country.^ 

Certain  waters  also  effect  wonderful  changes,  mental 
as  well  as  physical,  in  those  who  drink  of  or  bathe 
in  them.  From  Greek  and  Eoman  classical  sources 
Boiardo  probably  adapted  in  his  ' Orlando  Innamorato,' 
and  Ariosto  in  his  ' Furioso,’  the  idea  of  the  two  magic 
fountains,  one  of  which  inspired  love,  the  other  dis- 
dain, which  reappear  in  the  old  Spanish  romance  of 
•Diana,’  by  Montemayor.  In  the  14th  chapter  of 
Swan’s  ' Gesta  Eomanorum  ’ a princess  by  bathing  in 
a certain  fountain  becomes  a leper. — In  all  the  Eastern 
texts  of  the  Book  of  Sindibad,  a prince  on  his  way  to 
be  married  to  the  daughter  of  a mighty  monarch, 
came  to  a fountain,  of  which  he  drank,  when  lo  ! he 
nstantly  became  a woman,  and  his  companion  the 
vazir  abandoned  him  to  his  fate  in  the  desert.  He 

^ Dr  Jonathan  Scott’s  translation,  vol.  iii.  pp.  288-291.  The 
‘ Bahar-i  DJnush,’  or  Spring  (season)  of  Knowledge — Scott  renders 
it  ‘ Garden  of  Knowledge  ’ — was  composed  in  Persian  by  ‘Inayatu- 
’llah  of  Delhi  in  the  year  of  the  Hijra  1061  (a.d.  1650).  In  the 
author’s  introduction,  which  is  a florid  imitation  of  the  charming 
preface  to  the  ‘ Gulistd^n,’  or  Rose-Garden,  of  the  celebrated  Persian 
poet  Sa^di,  it  is  said  that  ‘‘  this  heart-enticing  story  ” was  communi- 
cated to  him  by  a young  Brahman ; in  other  words,  both  the  leading 
story  and  the  tales  interwoven  are  adapted  from  Indian  sources, 
which  are  now  well  known.  Scott’s  version  leaves  much  to  be 
desired,  albeit  he  justly  claims  that  it  is  fuller  and  more  faithful 
to  the  original  than  that  of  Dow  : he  was  unable  to  give  in  English 
the  Persian  names  of  flowers,  which  so  frequently  occur  in  the 
romance  ; his  mode  of  transliteration  is  objectionable  and  antiquated ; 
and  he  gives  only  brief  abstracts  of  a number  of  stories  in  an  appen- 
dix, which  might  have  been  translated,  with  a few  modifications,  and 
inserted  in  their  proper  places. 


MAGICAL  TKANSFORMATIONS. 


447 


meets  with  a wandering  horseman,  who  directs  him  to 
another  fountain,  the  waters  of  which  restore  his  pro- 
per sex,  and  he  is  duly  united  to  his  betrothed. — We 
read  of  pools  and  lakes  having  similar  properties  in 
several  Indian  story-books.  Thus,  in  the  ' Sinhasana 
Dwatrinsati  ’ (or  Thirty-two  Tales  of  a Throne),  a 
monkey  descends  from  a tree,  and  bathing  in  a well 
close  by,  is  changed  into  a woman  whenever  a pious  ” 
hermit  comes  to  converse  with  her,  and  by  dipping 
into  the  same  well  she  becomes  a monkey  again — till 
farther  orders.”  And  in  a romance  which  recounts 
the  adventures  of  two  sons  of  a king,  named  Somasek- 
hara  and  Chitrasekhara,  one  of  them  on  a journey  sees 
a monkey  in  his  gambols  plunge  into  a pool  and  come 
out  a man;  and  a little  farther  on  he  leaped  into 
another  pool,  and  issued  from  it  a monkey  as  before. 
The  prince  carries  off  some  of  the  waters  which  pro- 
duced these  changes,  and  afterwards  getting  into  his 
power  a rascally  giant  who  had  stolen  his  brother’s 
bride,  by  means  of  some  of  the  water  of  the  second  pool 
changes  him  into  a monkey,  and  sells  him  to  a beggar, 
who  compels  him  to  perform  tricks  for  his  benefit. 


Belief  in  witchcraft — that  most  deplorable  of  popu- 
lar delusions,  that  most  heart-hardening  phase  of  the 
madness  of  crowds  ” — was  strong  throughout  Europe 
during  mediaeval  times,  and  indeed  long  after  intellec- 
tual darkness  was  supposed  to  be  dispelled  by  means 
of  the  printing-press.  King  James  I.  of  England, 


448 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


ycleped  by  his  flatterers  ''  the  Scottish  Solomon,”  and 
by  men  of  better  judgment  ''  the  wisest  fool  in  Christ- 
endom,” was  a Arm  believer  in  witchcraft,  and  en- 
couraged witch-hunting  in  all  parts  of  his  dominions. 
It  is  horrifying  and  blood-curdling  to  read  of  the  tor- 
tures which  were  inflicted  upon  decrepit  old  wretches 
— often  absolutely  innocent,  and  generally  the  victims 
of  mental  disease — in  order  to  compel  them  to  confess 
their  intimate  connection  with  the  devil  and  all  his 
works.”  The  stories  of  magical  transformations  re- 
lated so  minutely  by  grave  authors  as  having  occurred 
in  different  parts  of  Europe,  are  all  derived,  as  also 
belief  in  witchcraft  itself,  directly  or  indirectly,  from 
Eastern  sources.  Heywood,  in  his  curious  and  enter- 
taining ^ History  of  Women,’  devotes  a chapter  to 
anecdotes  “ of  witches  who  have  either  changed  their 
own  shapes  or  transformed  others.”  After  copious 
references  to  eminent  authorities  for  the  fact  that 
some  men  can  change  themselves  into  wolves — such 
being  called  by  the  Germans  werwolff;  by  the  French 
hups  garous  ; by  the  Greeks  lukanthropous,  or  mormo- 
lukias  ; and  by  the  Eomans  mrsipdUs,  turn-skins — he 
thus  proceeds : ''  Saint  Augustine,  in  his  book,  ‘ De 
Civitate  Dei,’  lib.  18,  caps.  17  and  18,  tells  us  of 
divers  hostesses  or  innkeepers,  practised  in  these  dia- 
bolical arts,  who  put  such  confections  into  a kind  of 
cheese  they  made,  that  all  such  travellers  as  guested 
with  them,  and  ate  thereof,  were  presently  metamor- 
phosed into  labouring  beasts,  as  horses,  asses,  oxen, 
all  which  they  employed  either  in  drawing  or  bearing 


MAGICAL  TRANSFORMATIONS. 


449 


of  burdens,  or  else  let  them  out  for  hackneys  to  gain 
profit  by  their  hire ; and  when  their  work  was  done 
and  they  had  made  of  them  what  benefit  they  could, 
they  restored  them  to  their  pristine  shape. 

Eanulphus  and  Gulielmus,  ‘ De  Eegib.,’  lib.  20,  relate 
a history  of  two  such  witches  that  lived  in  the  road- 
way to  Eome : A minstrel  or  piper  travelling  that  way, 
tasted  of  this  cheese,  and  was  presently  changed  into 
an  ass,  who,  notwithstanding  he  had  lost  his  shape, 
still  retained  his  natural  reason;  and  (as  one  Banks 
here  about  this  city  taught  his  horse  to  show  tricks,  by 
which  he  got  much  money)  so  this  ass,  being  capable 
of  what  was  taught  him,  and  understanding  what  he 
was  bid  to  do,  showed  a thousand  several  pleasures 
(almost  impossible  to  be  apprehended  by  any  un- 
reasonable creature)  to  all  such  as  came  to  see  him 
and  paid  for  the  sight,  insomuch  that  he  was  sold  by 
these  witches  to  a neighbour  of  theirs  for  a great  sum 
of  money ; but  at  the  delivery  of  him  saith  one  of  the 
witches,  ‘ Take  heed,  neighbour  (if  you  mean  to  have 
good  of  your  beast),  that  in  any  case  you  lead  him  not 
through  the  water."  The  poor  trans-shaped  piper  this 
hearing,  apprehends  that  water  might  be  the  means  to 
restore  him  to  his  former  human  figure,  purposing  in 
himself  to  make  proof  thereof  at  his  next  best  oppor- 
tunity. Careful  was  the  new  merchant  of  the  charge 
given,  and  watered  him  still  in  a pail,  but  would  never 
let  him  drink  from  the  river.  But  the  master  travel- 
ling by  the  way,  and,  to  ease  his  beast,  alighting  and 
leading  him  in  his  hand,  the  ass  on  the  sudden  broke 
VOL.  I.  2 F 


450 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


his  bridle,  ran  out  of  sight,  and  leaped  into  the  next 
river  he  came  near,  where,  leaving  his  saddle  and 
furniture  behind,  he  waded  out  in  his  own  shape. 
The  man  pursues  him  with  all  the  speed  he  can,  and 
follows  him  the  way  he  took.  The  first  he  meets  is 
the  piper,  and  asks  him  if  he  saw  not  such  a kind 
of  beast,  and  describes  him  to  a hair.  The  fellow 
acknowledgeth  himself  to  have  been  the  same  ass  he 
bought  of  the  witch.  The  master  wondereth,  and 
relates  this  to  his  lord ; his  lord  acquaints  this  novel 
to  Petrus  Damianus,  a man  of  approved  knowledge 
and  wisdom,  and  numbered  amongst  the  greatest 
scholars  of  his  age;  he  examines  the  master,  the 
piper,  the  witches,  and  such  as  saw  him  leap  into 
the  river  a beast  and  return  a man,  and  informs  Pope 
Leo  VII.  thereof.  All  their  examinations  and  con- 
fessions were  taken,  and  a disputation  of  the  possibility 
thereof  held  in  the  presence  of  the  Pope,  before  whom 
the  truth  thereof  was  acknowledged  and  recorded. 
The  same  history  is  told  by  Vincentius,  in  ^ Speculo,’ 
lib.  3,  cap.  109,  and  Fulgentius,  lib.  8,  cap.  11. 

‘‘We  read  in  Gulielmus,  archbishop  of  Tyrus,  whom 
Sprangerus,  the  Great  Inquisitor,  citeth  to  the  same 
purpose : An  English  soldier,  being  in  Cyprus,  was  by 
a witch  transformed  into  an  ass;  and  when  all  his 
mates  went  on  shipboard,  he  following  them,  as  loath 
to  lose  their  fellowship,  was,  by  his  own  friends  and 
countrymen,  that  gave  him  [up  for]  lost,  beaten  back 
with  clubs  and  staves.  They  put  to  sea  without  him. 
He,  having  no  other  owner,  returned  back  to  the 


MAGICAL  TRANSFORMATIONS. 


451 


witch’s  house  that  had  trans-shaped  him,  who  employed 
him  in  all  her  drudgeries,  till  at  length  he  came  into 
the  church  when  the  bishop  was  at  divine  service,  and 
fell  on  his  knees  before  the  altar,  and  began  to  use 
such  devout  gestures  as  could  not  be  imagined  to  pro- 
ceed from  a brute  beast;  this  first  bred  admiration, 
and  then  suspicion.  The  witch  was  called  before  the 
judges,  examined,  and  convicted,  after  condemned  to 
the  stake,  having  before  restored  him  to  his  former 
shape  after  three  years’  transformation. 

''Answerable  to  this  we  read  of  Ammonius  the 
philosopher,  of  the  sect  of  Peripatetics,  who  hath  left 
recorded  that  an  ass  came  usually  into  his  school  at 
the  time  of  reading,  and  with  great  attention  listened 
to  his  lecture.  Merchants  have  delivered  that  nothing 
is  more  frequent  in  Egypt  than  such  trans-shapes,  inso- 
much that  Bellonius,  in  his  observations  printed  at 
Lutetia,  saith  that  he  himself  in  the  suburbs  of  Cairo 
(a  great  city  in  Egypt)  saw  a comedian  that  desired 
conference  with  the  ass  that  he  himself  rode  on,  who, 
wondering  what  he  then  intended,  gave  him  liberty  of 
free  discourse ; where  they  seemed  to  talk  with  great 
familiarity  (as  having  been  before  acquainted),  where 
the  ass  by  his  actions  and  signs  seemed  to  apprehend 
whatsoever  was  spoken  to  him:  when  the  one  pro- 
tested with  the  hand  upon  his  breast,  the  other  would 
strike  the  ground  with  his  foot;  and  when  the  man 
had  spoke  as  if  he  had  told  some  jest,  the  ass  would 
bray  aloud  as  if  he  had  laughed  heartily  at  the  conceit, 
appearing  to  him  not  only  to  apprehend  and  under- 


452 


POPULAE  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


stand  whatsoever  was  spoken,  but  to  make  answer  to 
such  questions  as  were  demanded  him.”  ^ 

We  should  nowadays  require  even  better  authority 
than  that  of  Saint  Augustine,  Eanulphus,  and  Guliel- 
mus,  archbishop  of  Tyre,  combined,  to  induce  us  to 
credit  such  stories,  which  are  simply  Arabian  and 
Indian  fictions  in  European  masquerade.  The  ass 
seems  to  have  been  the  form  of  animal,  according  to 
popular  belief,  into  which  witches  and  magicians 
generally  changed  those  whom  they  got  into  their 
power  and  this  notion  is  the  basis  of  a diverting 
Italian  tale,  ascribed,  on  slight  grounds,  to  Michele 
Colombo,  the  substance  of  which  is  as  follows: 

A poor  labourer,  named  Gilbert,  cultivated  a small 
enclosure,  gathered  faggots  in  a wood  close  by,  brought 
them  home  on  his  ass,  and  conveyed  them  to  the 
neighbouring  market-town.  He  was  a very  simple 
fellow,  who  could  be  made  to  believe  almost  any  ab- 
surdity. One  day  he  left  his  ass  tied  to  a tree  in  the 
outskirts  of  the  wood,  and  went  farther  into  the  in- 
terior. Two  monks  of  St.  Francis,  Father  Antony 
and  Father  Timothy,  having  rambled  over  the  ad- 
jacent districts,  begging  for  the  good  of  their  convent, 
were  returning  heavily  laden,  and,  seeing  the  ass, 
Timothy  threw  his  wallet  and  that  of  Antony  on  the 
beast,  loosed  the  halter,  and,  placing  it  round  his  own 

^ Heywood’s  ‘ History  of  Women,’  ed.  1657,  lib.  8,  pp.  573-575. 

* In  the  ‘ Golden  Ass  ’ of  Apuleius,  when  the  sorceress  Pamphile 
turns  herself  into  an  owl,  Apuleius  asks  her  maid  Fotis  to  change 
him  also  into  an  owl,  in  order  to  follow  her  ; but  she  by  mistake  turns 
him  into  an  ass,  in  which  form  he  sees  and  hears  many  curious  things, 
and  he  is  at  length  restored  to  human  shape  by  eating  some  roses. 


MAGICAL  TRANSFORMATIONS. 


453 


neck,  bids  Antony  to  lead  the  ass  to  their  convent, 
and  tell  the  brethren  that  he  had  been  suddenly  at- 
tacked by  fever,  and  had  taken  refuge  in  the  house  of 
a benevolent  peasant,  who  had  lent  him  the  ass,  which 
was  to  be  returned  next  week.  When  Gilbert  came 
with  his  faggots  and  saw  who  it  was  that  stood  in  the 
animal’s  place,  he  crossed  himself,  and  was  about  to 
run  away.  Timothy  tells  him  that  for  his  sins  he  had 
been  transformed  into  an  ass,  but  he  was  now  restored 
to  his  own  proper  form.  On  hearing  this  wonderful 
story,  Gilbert  says,  And  can  you,  good  father,  ever 
forgive  me  the  blows  which  you  have  had  from  my 
hands,  and  the  curses,  moreover,  which  you  have  often 
heard  from  my  lips  ? ” But  Timothy  assures  him  that 
the  blows  were  salutary  castigation,  according  to  the 
will  of  Heaven:  ‘'Take,  then,  thy  wood  upon  thy 
shoulder  and  go ; and  may  peace  attend  thee.”  The 
monk,  however,  is  easily  persuaded  to  put  up  for  the 
night  at  Gilbert’s  cottage,  as  the  hour  is  waxing  late. 
During  supper  he  ogles  Gilbert’s  comely  wife,  which 
the  woodcutter  observing,  he  warns  the  monk  to  be 
circumspect,  lest  his  former  punishment  again  befall 
him.  Next  day  Father  Timothy  returns  to  his  con- 
vent, and  informs  the  prior  that  Gilbert  had  made  a 
present  of  his  ass  to  the  convent ; so  they  resolve  to 
sell  the  beast,  and  send  a trusty  person  with  it  to  the 
fair.  Gilbert  happened  to  be  there,  and  at  once  re- 
cognised his  own  ass,  from  the  circumstance  of  its 
having  one  ear  cropped.  Going  up  to  the  ass,  he  put 
his  mouth  close  to  its  ear  and  whispered  softly,  “ Alas, 
good  father,  the  rebellious  flesh,  then,  has  played  thee 


454 


POPULAR  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


another  trick ! Did  I not  forewarn  thee  that  this 
would  happen?”  The  ass,  feeling  a.  breathing  and 
tickling  in  his  ear,  shook  his  head,  as  if  not  assenting. 

Deny  it  not,”  resumed  Gilbert ; I know  thee  well : 
thou  art  the  self-same.”  Again  the  ass  shook  its 
head.  ‘‘  Nay,  deny  it  not — lie  not,”  rejoined  the  worthy 
Gilbert,  raising  his  voice  somewhat — ''  lie  not,  for  that 
is  a great  sin : thee  it  is ; yes,  in  spite  of  thyself,  it  is 
thee.”  The  bystanders,  seeing  a man  thus  holding  a 
conversation  with  an  ass,  believed  him  to  be  crazy, 
and  gathering  round  him,  began  to  put  questions, 
some  about  one  thing,  some  about  another,  and  Gilbert 
advanced  the  strangest  and  most  unaccountable  facts, 
always  maintaining  that  this  was  not  his  ass,  but  in 
truth  a poor  miserable  Franciscan,  who,  for  his  carnal 
frailties,  was  now  uncomfortably  a second  time  trans- 
formed into  this  shape.  Then  he  told  from  beginning 
to  end  all  the  story  of  the  incontinent  friar  meta- 
morphosed into  a beast  of  burden.  His  narrative  was 
greeted  with  bursts  of  laughter.  Poor  Gilbert  was  all 
day  the  butt  of  the  fair.  At  last  he  was  induced  to 
buy  the  unlucky  animal  again ; and  taking  it  home, 
believing  it  to  be  no  ass  but  the  friar  again  trans- 
formed, he  would  not  employ  it  to  carry  his  faggots,  but 
fed  it  until,  like  Jeshurun,  it  ‘'waxed  fat  and  kicked.” 

Alexis  Piron  has  told  the  same  story  in  French 
verse,  under  the  title  of  “ Le  Cordelier  Cheval,”  which, 
together  with  the  Italian  novel  and  translations  of  both, 
was  published  at  London  in  1821.^  In  the  preface, 

1 ‘ Tales  of  the  Cordelier  Metamorphosed,  as  narrated  in  a manuscript 
from  the  Borromeo  Collection,  and  in  Le  Cordelier  Cheval  of  M. 


MAGICAL  TRANSFOEMATIONS. 


455 


the  translator,  G.  H.,  gives  the  following  account  of 
the  novel : The  Italian  novel,  which  I believe  to  be 
now  for  the  first  time  printed,  existed  in  manuscript  in 
the  collection  of  the  late  Count  Borromeo  of  Padua,  at 
the  sale  of  which,  in  1817,  it  fell,  among  other  trifies, 
to  my  lot.  It  stands  thus  in  the  catalogue  of  that 
sale:  'No.  250,  Novella  di  Gianni  andato  al  Boscoa 
far  legna,  &c.,  in  4to,  MS.,  inedita  ’ ; and  it  is  there, 
upon  what  authority  I know  not,  attributed,  together 
with  some  preceding  articles  of  the  catalogue,  to 
Michele  Colombo.  It  attracted  my  notice  from  its 
resemblance  in  the  principal  incidents  of  the  story  to 
‘ Le  Cordelier  Cheval,’  or,  as  it  is  sometimes  entitled, 
' Le  Moine  Bride,’  of  Alexis  Piron,  a tale  which  I have 
always  esteemed  as  not  the  least  pleasant  of  that 
author’s  facetious  effusions ; and  suspecting  that  Piron, 
like  La  Fontaine  before  him,  often  gathered  his  subjects 
from  some  older  record,  I have  looked  in  vain  among 
the  earlier  novelists  for  an  original  hint  of  this  story. 
Whether  the  Italian  which  I now  present  be  such,  or 
merely  an  imitation,  or  whether  both  the  narratives  be 
not  borrowed  with  variations  from  preceding  collections 
of  facetiae,  I will  not  pretend  to  determine.  Of  Colombo 
as  a writer  I have  not  met  with  any  notice,  but  it 
would  seem  that  in  Tiraboschi’s  time  he  was  possessed  of 
some  curious  books  at  Padua.  Without  better  informa- 
tion, one  may  reasonably  doubt  whether  he  was  the 
author  of  the  articles  which  Borromeo  attributed  to  him.” 

In  Piron’s  version  a man  named  Blaise  was  return- 

Piron,  with  Translations.*  London,  1821.  4to,  54  pages.  The  tales 
are  illustrated  with  a number  of  clever  etchings. 


456 


POPULAE  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


ing  from  market,  where  he  had  profitably  disposed  of 
his  oats  and  hay,  and  bought  a horse  to  carry  him 
home.  After  riding  some  distance,  the  weather  being 
frosty,  he  dismounts  in  order  to  warm  himself  by 
walking,  and  while  he  is  trudging  along,  leading  his 
palfrey  by  the  bridle,  he  is  seen  by  two  monks,  who 
steal  the  horse,  as  in  the  Italian  story.  When  Blaise 
(he  is  called  Ealph  in  the  English  rendering)  turns 
round  to  mount  his  horse  again,  what  was  his  surprise 
to  perceive  the  monk  with  the  bridle  round  his  neck  ! 
Father  Peter  explains  that  as  a penance  for  having 
indulged  his  carnal  desires,  he  had  been  condemned 
for  seven  years  to  live  in  the  form  of  a horse,  and  his 
time  was  now  expired.  Ealph  (or  Blaise)  replies  that 
he  can’t  understand  why  his  purse  should  have  to  pay 
for  the  monk’s  misdeeds  ; but  Heaven  is  just : he  him- 
self had  also  sinned  and  must  do  penance  in  his  turn ; 
the  only  difference  between  them  being  that  the  monk’s 
mulct  is  paid,  while  his  own  has  but  begun.  You’ve 
been  seven  long  years  a horse,  and  it  might  come  to 
pass  that  I should  be  an  ass  for  a similar  period.” 
However,  the  twenty  marks  that  he  paid  for  the 
monk  as  a horse  won’t  ruin  him — “ Go  to  your  con- 
vent, and  beware  for  the  future.” 

The  monk,  with  reverence  profound, 

Thrice  clasped  his  knees,  thrice  kissed  the  ground ; 

Then  gaily  and  with  quickened  pace 
Made  off ; while  Ralph,  with  rueful  face, 

Light  purse,  and  bridle  dangling  loose, 

Sneaked  homeward,  like  a truant  goose. 

He  kept  his  counsel ; not  a word. 

You  may  be  sure,  had  e’er  been  heard 


MAGICAL  TKANSFORMATIONS. 


457 


From  him  of  his  adventure  rare, 

Had  he  not  one  day  at  the  fair 
Espied  his  well-known  horse,  and  nigh  it 
Stood  Gregory  about  to  buy  it. 

Ealph  stared,  but,  laughing  in  his  sleeve. 
Whispered,  “ Friend  Gregory,  by  your  leave. 
This  way — a word — that  horse  don’t  buy — 

I know  him,  and  a good  reason  why  ! 

Don’t  buy  that  horse,  you’ll  sadly  rue 
Your  bargain  one  day,  if  you  do. 

Some  morning,  when  you  think  on’t  least, 
Parading  bravely  on  that  beast 
(A  beast  to  look  on  not  amiss). 

You’ll  find  yourself — remember  this — 

Hey,  presto  ! pass  than  lightning  fleeter 
Mounted  astride  on  Father  Peter. 

“ Astride  on  Peter  ! 0 you  jeer  ! ” 

“ Not  I,  indeed  ; you’ll  find  him  there. 

With  cord  and  cowl  and  chaplet  meet, 

A fat,  gray  Cordelier  complete.” 

Ealph  then  began  to  tell  his  tale — 

The  purchase — storm — Franciscan  frail — 
The  penitence  and  all  the  rest ; 

What  happened  since  he  shrewdly  guessed  : 

“ Look  you,”  said  he,  this  child  of  sin. 

His  lesson  fast  forgetting  quite. 

Has  given  the  bait  another  bite  ; 

So  here  he  is.”  “ And  here  may  be. 

By  th’  mass,”  quoth  Gregory,  for  me. 

Pox  take  him  and  his  liquorish  story, 

And  his  new  lease  of  purgatory ! 

Ealph,  but  for  thee,  I’d  lost  my  chink ; 

’Tis  ten  pounds  saved — let’s  drink  ! ” ^ 


1 Peste  ! interrompt  Gregoire, 

Qu’il  aille  au  diable  avec  son  hame9on, 

Et  ses  sept  ans  de  nouveau  purgatoire  ! 

Vraiment,  sans  toi,  j’etois  joli  garQon  ; 

C’est  cinq  cens  francs  que  je  gagne — aliens  boire  ! 


458 


POPULAK  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


The  story  is  also  found  in  'Facetiae  Cantabrigienses/ 
1825,  p.  10,  and  in  Bohn’s  edition  of  'Joe  Miller’s 
Complete  Jest  Book,’  printed  in  1841  (No.  151) : 
" Three  or  four  roguish  scholars,  walking  out  one  day, 
espied  a poor  fellow  near  Abingdon  asleep  in  a ditch, 
with  an  ass  by  him  laden  with  earthenware,  holding 
the  bridle  in  his  hand.  Says  one  of  the  scholars  to 
the  rest,  ' If  you  will  assist  me.  I’ll  help  you  to  a little 
money,  for  you  know  we  are  bare  at  present,’  ” and  so 
on.  When  the  poor  fellow  sees  his  ass  offered  for  sale 
at  the  fair,  " Oh,”  said  he,  " have  he  and  his  father 
quarrelled  again  already  ? No,  no.  I’ll  have  nothing 
to  say  to  him.” 

The  original  of  these  three  tales  is  perhaps  found 
in  the  Biilak  and  Calcutta  printed  Arabian  texts  of 
the  'Thousand  and  One  Mghts,’  where  the  story  is 
thus  related : 

A simple  countryman  was  walking  along,  dragging 
his  ass  after  him  by  the  halter,  which  a brace  of  sharp- 
ers observing,  one  said  to  his  fellow,  " Come  with  me, 
and  I will  take  the  ass  from  that  man.”  He  then  quietly 
advanced  to  the  ass,  unloosed  it  from  the  halter,  and 
gave  the  beast  to  his  confederate,  who  went  off  with  it ; 
after  which  the  sharper  passed  the  halter  round  his  neck, 
and  allowed  the  man  to  drag  him  along  until  the  other 
rogue  with  the  ass  was  out  of  sight,  when  he  suddenly 
stopped,  and  the  man  having  tugged  the  halter  several 
times  without  effect,  he  looked  back,  and,  amazed  to 
behold  a man  in  place  of  his  beast,  exclaimed,  " Who 
art  thou  ? ” The  sharper  answered,  " I was  thy  ass ; 


MAGICAL  TEANSFOEMATIONS. 


459 


but  hear  my  story,  for  it  is  wonderful.  I have  a 
virtuous  and  pious  mother,  and  one  day  I came  home 
intoxicated.  Grieved  to  see  me  in  such  a condition, 
she  reproved  me ; but,  instead  of  being  overwhelmed 
with  remorse,  I beat  her  with  a stick,  whereupon  she 
prayed  to  Heaven,  and  in  answer  to  her  supplication  I 
was  transformed  into  an  ass.  In  that  shape  I have 
been  in  thy  service  until  this  day,  when,  as  it  appears, 
my  mother  has  interceded  for  me,  and  I am  restored 
to  the  human  form.”  The  simpleton,  believing  every 
word  of  this  story,  raised  his  eyes  to  heaven,  and  said, 
‘‘  Of  a truth  there  is  no  power  or  strength  but  from 
Allah ! But  pray  forgive  me  for  having  used  thee  as 
I have  done.”  The  sharper  readily  granted  forgive- 
ness, and,  taking  leave  of  the  simpleton,  went  off  to 
rejoin  his  companion  and  to  dispose  of  the  ass  ; while 
the  countryman  returned  home,  and  showing  his  wife 
the  halter,  told  her  of  the  wondrous  transformation 
which  had  taken  place.  His  wife,  in  hopes  of  pro- 
pitiating Heaven,  gave  alms,  and  offered  up  many 
prayers,  to  avert  evil  from  them,  since  they  had  used 
a human  being  as  a beast  of  burden.  The  simpleton, 
having  remained  idle  at  home  for  some  weeks,  went 
one  day  to  purchase  another  beast  at  the  market,  and 
on  entering  the  place  where  the  animals  were  all 
fastened,  he  saw  with  amazement  his  own  ass  offered 
for  sale.  Putting  his  mouth  to  its  ear,  he  whispered, 
“Woe  to  thee,  unlucky ! Doubtless  thou  hast  again 
been  intoxicated;  but,  by  Allah,  I will  never  buy 
thee ! ” 


460 


POPULAK  TALES  AND  FICTIONS. 


The  English  version  does  not  appear  to  have  been 
derived  from  the  French  or  the  Italian,  since  its  con- 
clusion corresponds  more  closely  with  the  Arabian 
tale : the  poor  hawker’s  exclamation,  “ Oh,  have  he  and 
his  father  quarrelled  again  already  ? Ho,  no.  I’ll  have 
nothing  to  say  to  him,”  having  its  exact  parallel  in  that 
of  the  Arab  simpleton, Doubtless  thou  hast  again  been 
intoxicated ; but,  by  Allah,  I will  never  buy  thee ! ” ^ In 
the  Italian,  story  Gilbert  buys  his  beast  once  more  out 
of  pity  for  Father  Timothy ; while  in  Piron’s  version 
the  original  owner  dissuades  a friend  from  purchasing 
his  horse.  It  is  not  at  all  probable  that  Piron  adapted 
his  tale  of  ‘ Le  Cordelier  Cheval  ’ from  the  Italian 
novel,  since  he  represents  the  simpleton  as  leading  his 
horse  by  the  bridle,  like  the  Arab  countryman  with  his 
ass ; while  in  the  Italian  story  the  animal  was  fastened 
to  a tree  when  it  was  discovered  by  the  two  monks. 
The  story  may  have  been  brought  to  France  by  some 
Trouvere  from  the  East ; — it  is  precisely  such  a tale  as 
would  have  been  readily  appropriated  by  the  professors 
of  the  gay  science,”  and  from  a falliau  it  may  have 
become  orally  current  among  the  people.  Its  appear- 
ance in  Italy  is  no  more  remarkable  than  that  of  many 
other  stories  which  occur  in  the  ‘ Arabian  Mghts,’  con- 
sidering the  close  commercial  relations  which  were 
once  maintained  by  the  Venetians  with  Syria  and 
Egypt,  the  countries  where  that  famous  story-book 
almost  certainly  had  its  origin. 

^ Yet,  so  far  as  I am  aware,  the  Arabian  tale  had  not  been  rendered 
into  English  when  the  Cambridge  Jests  were  published. 


APPENDIX, 


I. 

The  Inexhaustible  Purse,  etc. 

A VARIANT  of  the  story  of  the  four  young  fakirs  and  the  magical 
treasures  left  them  by  their  teachers,  cited  in  p.  88,  from 
Miss  Stokes’s  ‘Indian  Fairy  Tales,’  is  found  in  the  Tamil  ro- 
mance, ‘ Madana  Kamaraja  Kadai,’  translated  by  Mr  Natesa 
Sastri,  under  the  apt  title  of  ‘ The  Dra vidian  Nights,’  p.  129. 
The  youngest  of  two  brothers,  in  the  course  of  his  wanderings, 
went  one  day  to  a tank  to  wash  himself.  While  there  he  saw 
at  a short  distance  from  him  an  old  sanydsi  (religious  mendi- 
cant) breathing  his  last.  The  sage  was  surrounded  by  four  of 
his  disciples,  to  whom  he  was  thus  speaking  : “ My  students,  I 
have  had  possession  for  a long  time  of  four  objects  which  are  as 
dear  to  me  as  life.  They  are  : a bag,  which  yields  to  one  what- 
ever he  may  want ; a cup,  which  serves  up  newly  cooked  meals 
whenever  you  require  them ; a cudgel,  which  would  belabour 
all  your  enemies  if  you  aim  it  at  them  ; and  a pair  of  sandals 
which  takes  you  wherever  you  wish  to  go.  First  bury  me,  and 
then  take  these  things  for  yourselves.”  So  saying,  the  sage 
expired,  and  his  disciples  buried  him  close  by,  under  a tree. 
Then  they  quarrelled  over  the  four  things,  and  at  length  agreed 
to  place  them  in  the  hollow  of  an  old  tamarind-tree,  and  go  to 
the  town  in  search  of  an  arbiter.  The  youth  was  observing 
from  a distance  what  was  passing,  and  as  soon  as  they  went 
away  he  proceeded  to  the  spot  and  took  possession  of  the  four 


462 


APPENDIX. 


treasures.  But  fearing  that  without  the  permission  of  the  de- 
parted soul  of  the  sage  these  things  would  be  of  no  benefit  to 
him,  he  went  to  the  grave  of  the  sanydsi  and  there  said,  My 
respected  sanydsi,  your  disciples  fought  over  these  rare  treasures 
and  carelessly  put  them  in  the  hollow  of  a tree  ; I have  taken 
them  out,  and  with  your  kind  leave  will  make  use  of  them.” 
Then  this  answer  came  out  of  the  grave  : “You  did  very  well  in 
taking  possession  of  these  objects,  which  will  be  of  more  service 
to  you  than  to  those  envious  fellows.” 

An  analogue  of  the  German,  Bohemian,  Kalmuk,  and  Bud- 
dhist tales  cited  in  pp.  110-116  is  found  in  the  same  Tamil 
romance  (‘Dravidian  Nights,’ p.  149  ff.) : The  prince,  in  quest 
of  the  pdrijdta  flower,  having,  by  the  directions'  of  the  third 
sage,  who  opened  his  eyes  every  third  watch,  won  the  love 
of  a celestial  maiden,  she  gives  him  a guitar  on  which  he 
had  only  to  play,  when  she  would  appear  and  set  before  him 
abundance  of  the  most  delicious  viands.  He  goes  back  to  the 
third  sage,  and  playing  on  his  guitar,  the  damsel  appears  with 
food  as  she  had  promised.  The  sage  persuades  the  prince  to 
exchange  his  guitar  for  a cudgel  that  would  put  to  death  a vast 
army  in,  the  twinkling  of  an  eye.  By  means  of  the  club,  which 
goes  back  and  kills  the  sage,  the  prince  recovers  his  guitar, 
which  he  exchanges  with  the  second  sage  for  an  inexhaustible 
purse,  and  with  the  first  sage  for  magic  sandals,  each  time  re- 
covering it  by  means  of  the  all-powerful  cudgel,  which  here  per- 
forms the  part  of  Kreischwinger  in  the  Kalmuk  version  and  of 
the  hatchet  in  the  Buddhist  Birth-Story  of  Sakka’s  Presents. — In 
the  German  version,  the  hero  twice  recovers  his  magic  table  by 
means  of  the  article  for  which  he  exchanges  it — a knapsack  and 
a hat ; and  in  the  Bohemian  story,  a bagpipe  brings  it  back  to 
him  after  exchanging  it  for  a sack  of  wonderful  virtue. 

II. 

“Who  eats  my  Heaet,”  etc. 

In  the  story  cited  in  p.  93  ff.,  from  Miss  Busk’s  ‘ Folk- 
Lore  of  Rome,’  one  of  the  brothers,  by  eating,  the  head  of  a 


THE  TKANSFOEMATION  DONKEY. 


463 


bird,  becomes  emperor,  and  the  other,  by  eating  the  heart, 
is  never  without  money,  of  which  incident  an  Indian  analogue 
is  given  in  p.  98.  In  the  same  tale  from  the  ‘ Dravidian 
Nights’  cited  in  the  preceding  note,  the  two  brothers  enter 
a dense  wood,  in  which  is  an  extraordinary  mango -tree  that 
yields  one  fruit  once  in  a hundred  years.  To  obtain  that 
fruit  a sage  was  practising  penance  before  the  tree,  and  just 
as  the  youths  entered  the  wood  the  fruit  dropped  down  at  the 
feet  of  the  sage,  who  left  it  where  it  fell,  and  went  off  to  bathe 
before  touching  it.  The  younger  brother,  without  being  ob- 
served by  the  elder,  picked  up  the  fruit  and  concealed  it  in  the 
midst  of  his  rice-ball.  The  sage,  on  returning  from  his  ablu- 
tions, was  distracted  to  find  the  fruit  was  gone,  and  overtaking 
the  brothers,  asked  them  whether  they  had  seen  a mango-fruit 
on  the  ground,  to  which  they  replied  in  the  negative.  Then 
the  sage  began  to  weep  and  tear  his  long  beard.  “ What  spe- 
cial property  is  there  in  that  fruit,”  asked  the  younger  brother, 
“ that  you  should  so  much  lament  its  loss  ? ” Said  the  sage, 
“ My  dear  son,  he  who  eats  the  skin  of  that  fruit  will  become  a 
king,  and  he  who  eats  the  seed,  gems  will  drop  from  his  mouth 
every  time  he  laughs.”!  The  youths  then  resumed  their  jour- 
ney. In  the  evening  they  sat  down  beside  a stream,  and  the 
younger  gave  the  elder  some  rice  and  the  skin  of  the  mango 
fruit,  and  himself  ate  the  seed,  with  the  results  predicted  by 
the  sage. — I have  before  remarked  (p.  445)  that  this  story  in 
the  sequel  very  closely  resembles  Miss  Busk’s  tale  of  ‘ The 
Transformation  Donkey.’ 

1 In  No.  5 of  Rev.  Lai  Behari  Day’s  ‘ Folk-Tales  of  Bengal’  a fisher- 
man brings  a young  merchant  a fish,  which  if  any  one  eats,  when  he 
laughs  the  most  precious  gems  will  fall  from  his  mouth,  and  when  he 
weeps  pearls  will  drop  from  his  eyes.  Ill-used  step-daughters  are  often 
thus  endowed  in  European  fairy  tales.  In  the  Relations  of  Siddhf  Kiir 
we  find  a gold-spitting  prince — see  p.  125  of  the  present  volume.  In 
Gonzenhach’s  ‘ Sicilianische  March  en,’  a girl  drops  pearls  and  precious 
stones  from  her  hair  whenever  she  combs  it,  to  which  Dr  Kohler  gives 
many  parallels  in  a note  on  this  tale.  In  Coelho’s  ‘ Contos  Portuguezes,  ’ 
No.  36,  pearls  drop  from  the  heroine’s  mouth.  In  a Norse  story  gold 
coins  fall  from  the  mouth  of  the  heroine  whenever  she  speaks  ; and  in  a 
Swedish  tale,  a gold  ring. 


464 


APPENDIX. 


III. 

The  Good  Man  and  the  Bad  Man — p.  245. 

My  conjecture  that  this  story  is  of  Buddhist  extraction  (p.  261) 
seems  borne  out  by  the  existence  of  a version  current  in  Ceylon. 
Under  the  title  of  the  “Two  Peasants/’  S.  Jane  Goonetilleke 
gives  a translation  of  it  in  ‘ The  Orientalist/  1885,  pp.  150-152. 
In  this  version  two  peasants  left  their  native  village  to  seek  their 
fortune.  At  the  outset  one  of  them  said  to  the  other,  “ Friend, 
if  you  provide  out  of  your  purse  for  both  of  us,  I will  do  like- 
wise when  your  money  is  all  spent.”  To  this  his  companion 
agreed,  and  whenever  he  cooked  his  rice  he  always  gave  his 
friend  half  of  it.  When  his  stock  of  money  was  exhausted,  he 
asked  his  companion  to  give  him  some  of  his  food,  but  he  refused. 
After  being  without  food  for  some  days,  the  poor  peasant  at  last 
consented  to  part  with  one  of  his  eyes  for  a spoonful,  and  soon 
afterwards  the  other  eye  was  also  taken  out  by  his  wicked 
comrade,  who  then  left  him  at  the  foot  of  a tree  and  went  his 
own  way.  The  blinded  peasant  overhears  a party  of  rakshasas 
who  were  in  the  tree  conversing  together.  One  said,  “ All  are  not 
aware  of  the  rare  qualities  of  this  tree.  Any  blind  man  will 
have  his  sight  restored  to  him,  if  he  will  only  rub  his  eyes  with 
some  of  its  juice.”  “ That  is  not  all,”  said  another : “ if  a man 
should  eat  one  of  these  leaves,  he  would  not  get  hungry  for  seven 
days  and  seven  nights.”  “ More  than  that,”  said  a third  : “ if  a 
man  eat  the  fruit  of  this  tree,  he  will  become  a king  in  seven 
days.”  When  the  rakshasas  had  gone  away,  the  poor  man 
contrived  to  scrape  away  part  of  the  bark  of  the  tree,  and  thus 
obtained  a little  of  its  juice,  which  he  at  once  applied  to  his 
eyes  and  he  immediately  recovered  his  sight.  When  he  had 
eaten  some  of  the  leaves  he  felt  quite  strong,  and  then  climbing 
to  the  top  of  the  tree  he  ate  of  the  fruit,  convinced  that  he  should 
become  king  in  seven  days.  He  set  off  and  reached  a town  on 
the  seventh  day,  and  during  all  the  time  he  did  not  once  feel 
the  pangs  of  hunger.  Seating  himself  outside  a rest-house 


THE  GOOD  MAN  AND  THE  BAD  MAN. 


465 


(for  the  company  within Vould  not  have  such  a dirty  and  ragged 
fellow  amongst  them),  the  late  king’s  elephant  came  past  to 
choose  a successor,  and  kneeling  down  before  the  peasant,  he 
was  at  once  acknowledged  and  crowned  kingd  Now  his  false 
friend  had  before  arrived  at  the  same  city,  and  married  the 
daughter  of  the  prime  minister,  and  when  he  saw  the  new  king 
he  was  struck  with  his  resemblance  to  the  man  he  had  so  cruelly 
blinded  ; but  fearing  to  ask  a direct  question,  he  one  day  said 
to  him,  “ Sire,  is  it  possible  for  a blind  man  by  any  means  to 
recover  his  sight  % ” The  king  answered,  It  is  not  impossible. 
If  a man  only  sought  it  he  would  find  a remedy  even  for  blind- 
ness.” So  the  prime  minister  resolved  to  get  some  one  to  treat 
him  as  he  had  done  his  comrade,  and  set  out  from  the  city  with 
his  wife,  having  instruced  her  how  to  act.  First  the  man  provided 
food  for  both,  and  when  his  stock  of  money  was  all  spent,  his 
wife  treated  him  in  the  same  way  he  had  treated  his  friend,  and 
finally  left  him  bound  under  a tree.  Before  parting  she  told 
him  where  he  would  find  her  when  he  had  become  king.  The 
woman  went  on  till  she  came  to  a shepherd’s  hut,  and  obtained 
leave  to  stay  there  for  seven  days  till  her  husband  the  king  came 
to  take  her  away.  Seven  days  passed,  but  there  was  no  sign  of 
the  king,  and  when  other  seven  days  had  elapsed,  the  shepherd 
lost  all  patience,  upon  which  the  woman  told  him  the  whole 
story.  The  shepherd  repaired  to  the  spot  to  find  out  what  had 
happened  to  the  man,  and  there  he  found  his  carcase  surrounded 
by  eagles  and  other  ravenous  birds  and  animals.  Keturning 
home,  the  would-be  queen  eagerly  questioned  the  shepherd  as  to 
the  fate  of  her  husband,  and  asked  him  whether  he  had  indeed 
been  crowned  king.  “Oh,  yes,”  replied  he,  “ I found  him  sur- 
rounded by  so  many  of  his  subjects,  that  I could  not  exchange 
one  word  with  him,  and  tell  him  of  your  welfare,  but  now  you 
can  go  and  see  for  yourself.”  So  saying,  he  drove  her  out  of  his 
house  as  an  adventuress. 

1 This  singular  mode  of  choosing  a successor  to  the  throne  occurs  in 
many  Indian  tales,  and  it  seems  to  have  been  actually  practised  at  one 
time. 


2 G 


VOL.  I. 


466 


APPENDIX. 


lY. 

Encounters  with  Ogres,  etc. 

The  beautiful  episode  “ Baka-badha  ” which  occurs  in  the 
first  book  of  the  ‘ Mahabharata,’  and  which  has  been  done  into 
English  verse  by  Dean  Milman,  under  the  title  of  the  “ Brah- 
man’s Lament”  (see  pp.  163,  164),  seems  adapted  in  one  of  the 
Eev.  Lai  Behari  Day’s  ‘ Folk-Tales  of  Bengal,’  pp.  73-77  : 

Two  youths,  Champa  Dal  and  Sahasra  Dal,  arrived  one  even- 
ing at  a village,  and  became  guests  in  the  house  of  one  of  its 
most  respectable  inhabitants.  They  found  the  members  of  the 
family  in  deep  gloom.  Evidently  there  was  something  agitat- 
ing them  very  much.  Some  of  them  held  private  consultations, 
and  others  were  weeping.  The  eldest  lady  of  the  house,  the 
mother  of  its  head,  said  aloud,  “ Let  me  go,  as  I am  the  oldest. 
I have  lived  long  enough  ; at  the  utmost  my  life  would  be  cut 
short  only  by  a year  or  two.”  The  youngest  member  of  the 
house,  who  was  a little  girl,  said,  “ Let  me  go,  as  I am  useless 
to  the  family ; if  I die,  I shall  not  be  missed.”  The  head  of  the 
house,  the  son  of  the  old  lady,  said,  “ I am  the  head  and  repre- 
sentative of  the  family ; it  is  but  reasonable  that  I should  give 
up  my  life.”  His  younger  brother  said,  ‘‘You  are  the  main 
prop  and  pillar  of  the  family ; if  you  go  the  whole  family  is 
ruined.  It  is  not  reasonable  that  you  should  go  ; let  me  go, 
as  I shall  not  be  much  missed.”  The  two  strangers  listened 
to  all  this  conversation  with  no  little  curiosity.  They  won- 
dered what  it  all  meant.  Sahasra  Dal  at  last,  at  the  risk 
of  being  thought  meddlesome,  ventured  to  ask  the  head  of 
the  house  the  subject  of  their  consultations,  and  the  reason 
of  the  deep  misery  but  too  visible  in  their  countenances  and 
words.  He  answered,  “ Know  then,  worthy  guests,  that  this 
part  of  the  country  is  infested  by  a terrible  rakshasi/  who 
has  depopulated  all  the  regions  round.  This  town,  too,  would 
have  been  depopulated,  but  that  our  king  became  a suppliant 

1 Female  demon  of  the  rakshasa  species. 


ENCOUNTERS  WITH  OGRES,  ETC. 


467 


before  tbe  rakshasi,  and  begged  her  to  show  mercy  to  us  his  sub- 
jects. The  rakshasi  replied,  ‘ I will  consent  to  show  mercy  to 
you  and  your  subjects  only  on  this  condition,  that  you  every 
night  put  a human  being,  either  male  or  female,  in  a certain 
temple  for  me  to  feast  upon.  If  I get  one  every  night  I will 
rest  satisfied,  and  not  commit  farther  depredations  on  your  sub- 
jects.’ Our  king  had  no  alternative  but  to  agree  to  this  condi- 
tion ; for  what  human  beings  can  ever  hope  to  contend  against  a 
rakshasi  ? From  that  day  the  king  made  it  a rule  that  every 
family  in  the  town  should  in  its  turn  send  one  of  its  members 
to  the  temple  as  a victim  to  appease  the  wrath  and  satisfy  the 
hunger  of  the  terrible  rakshasi.  All  the  families  in  this  neigh- 
bourhood have  had  their  turn,  and  this  night  it  is  the  turn  for 
one  of  us  to  devote  himself  to  destruction.  We  are  therefore 
discussing  who  should  go.  You  must  now  perceive  the  cause 
of  our  distress.”  The  two  friends  consulted  together  for  a few 
minutes,  after  which  Sahasra  Dal  said,  Most  worthy  host,  do 
not  any  longer  be  sad.  As  you  have  been  very  kind  to  us,  we 
have  resolved  to  requite  your  hospitality  by  ourselves  going  to 
the  temple  and  becoming  the  food  of  the  rakshasi^  "We  go  as 
your  representatives.”  The  whole  family  protested  against  the 
proposal.  They  declared  that  guests  were  like  gods,  and  that  it 
was  the  duty  of  the  host  to  endure  all  kinds  of  privation  for  the 
comfort  of  the  guest,  and  not  the  duty  of  the  guest  to  suffer  for 
the  host.  But  the  strangers  insisted  on  being  proxy  for  the 
family,  who  at  length  reluctantly  consented  to  the  arrangement. 

Immediately  after  candle-light,  Sahasra  Dal  and  Champa 
Dal,  with  their  horses,  installed  themselves  in  the  temple  and 
shut  the  door.  Sahasra  told  his  brother  to  go  to  sleep,  as  he 
himself  was  determined  to  sit  up  the  whole  night  and  watch 
against  the  coming  of  the  terrible  rakshasi ; and  Champa  was 
soon  sound  asleep,  while  his  brother  lay  awake.  Nothing  hap- 
pened during  the  early  hours  of  the  night ; but  no  sooner  had 
the  king’s  gong  announced  the  hour  of  midnight  than  Sahasra 
heard  a sound  as  of  a rushing  tempest,  and  immediately  con- 
cluded, from  his  knowledge  of  rakshasas,  that  the  rakshasi  was 
nigh.  Presently  he  heard  a thundering  knock  at  the  door, 
followed  by  these  words  : 


468 


APPENDIX. 


“ How,  mow,  khow  ! 

A human  being  I smell ; i 
Who  watches  inside  ? ” 


Saliasra  Dal  replied, 

“ Saliasra  Dal  watcheth, 

Champa  Dal  watcheth, 

Two  winged  horses  watch.” 

On  hearing  this  the  rakshasi  turned  away  with  a groan,  know- 
ing that  Sahasra  Dal  had  rakshasa  blood  in  his  veins.  An  hour 
after  she  returned,  and  again  at  two  o’clock  and  at  three  o’clock, 
and  made  the  same  inquiry,  and  obtaining  each  time  the  same 
answer,  went  away  with  a groan.  After  three  o’clock,  however, 
Sahasra  Dal  felt  very  sleepy ; he  could  no  longer  keep  awake  ; 
so  he  roused  his  brother,  told  him  to  watch,  and  strictly  enjoin- 
ing upon  him,  in  reply  to  the  query  of  the  rakshasi,  to  mention 
his  (Sahasra’s)  name  first,  he  went  to  sleep.  At  four  o’clock 
the  rakshasi  again  returned,  thundered  at  the  door,  and  said, 

How,  mow,  khow  ! 

A human  being  I smell ; 

Who  watches  inside  ? ” 

As  Champa  Dal  was  in  a great  fright,  he  forgot  for  the  moment 
his  brother’s  injunction,  and  answered  : 

“ Champa  Dal  watcheth, 

Sahasra  Dal  watcheth. 

Two  winged  horses  watch.” 

On  hearing  this  reply  the  rakshasi  uttered  a shout  of  exultation, 
laughed  as  only  demons  can  laugh,  and  with  a dreadful  noise 
broke  open  the  door.  The  noise  roused  Sahasra,  who  in  a 
moment  sprang  to  his  feet,  and  with  his  sword,  which  was  as 
supple  as  a palm-leaf,  cut  off  the  head  of  the  rakshasi.  The 
huge  mountain  of  a body  fell  to  the  ground,  making  a great 
noise,  and  lay  covering  many  an  acre. 

1 This  is  the  ‘‘Fe,  fo,  fum  !”  of  our  nursery  tale  of  Jack  and  the 
Giants.  Ogres  and  such-like  monsters  readily  scent  the  presence  of  a 
human  being.  See  the  note  in  p.  134. 


'CUPID  AND  psyche’  LEGENDS.  469 


V. 

'Cupid  and  Psyche’  Legends. 

The  eighth  of  the  Kev.  Lai  Behari  Day’s  ' Folk-Tales  of 
Bengal’  presents,  in  the  second  part  (the  first  belongs  to  the 
“ Outcast  Child  ” cycle),  some  resemblance  to  the  modern  Greek 
version  of  the  'Cupid  and  Psyche’  legend  cited  in  pp.  243, 
244,  in  connection  with  stories  of  secrets  learned  from  birds. 
A young  lady  is  married  to  a mysterious  youth.  Prince  Sobur,^ 
who  had  sent  her  a box  containing  a looking-glass  and  a fan, 
and  when  she  had  shaken  the  fan,  he  stood  before  her.  The 
six  sisters  of  the  bride,  envying  her  good  fortune,  determined  to 
cause  the  death  of  the  prince.  They  broke  some  bottles,  re- 
duced the  fragments  to  a fine  powder,  and  scattered  it  on  the 
nuptial  couch.  The  prince  had  no  sooner  laid  himself  down 
than  he  felt  the  most  acute  pain,  for  the  fine  glass-powder  had 
penetrated  all  his  body.  As  he  was  writhing  and  shrieking, 
his  attendants  hastily  took  him  away  to  his  own  country.  The 
young  bride,  on  discovering  that  her  husband  had  been  spirited 
away,  was  distracted  with  grief,  and  though  she  had  never  seen 
his  country,  she  determined  to  seek  it  out,  however  far  distant 
it  might  be.  So  she  put  on  the  dress  of  a religious  mendicant, 
and  set  out  on  her  journey.  She  soon  became  weary,  and  sat 
under  a tree  to  rest.  On  the  top  of  the  tree  was  the  nest  of  the 
celestial  bird  Bihangama  and  his  mate.  They  were  absent  at 
the  time,  but  two  of  their  young  ones  were  in  the  nest.  Pres- 
ently they  gave  a loud  scream,  and  the  pretended  mendicant 
looking  up  discovered  a monstrous  snake  climbing  the  tree,  and 
in  a moment  she  cut  the  snake  in  two  with  a dagger  which  she 
carried.  Soon  after  this  the  parent  birds  return,  and  their  young 
ones  relate  how  the  mendicant  at  the  foot  of  the  tree  had  killed 
a snake  that  was  climbing  up  to  destroy  them.  The  Bihangama 
then  said  to  his  mate  that  they  must  do  her  a service,  for  the 
person  under  the  tree  was  not  a sanydsi,  but  a woman  who  had 


1 Query — Pers.  sdbr,  meaning  patience  ” ? 


470 


APPENDIX. 


been  married  last  nigbt  to  Prince  Sobur,  who  a few  hours  after, 
on  laying  himself  down  on  his  bed,  had  been  sorely  injured  with 
fine  particles  of  glass  which  had  been  spread  there  by  his 
envious  sisters-in-law,  and  was  now  in  his  native  country  and 
at  the  point  of  death.  The  bird  then  goes  on  to  explain  to  his 
mate  that  if  their  dung,  which  is  lying  about  the  tree  and  is 
hardened,  be  reduced  to  powder  and  applied  with  a brush  to  the 
body  of  the  prince  after  bathing  him  seven  times  with  seven 
jars  of  water  and  seven  jars  of  milk,  he  will  certainly  get  well, 
adding  that  he  himself  will  carry  her  on  his  back  to  the  capital 
of  the  province.  The  poor  girl,  having  heard  this  conversation, 
begged  the  Bihangama  to  carry  her  to  the  prince,  and  he  readily 
consented.  Before  mounting  the  bird,  she  gathered  a quantity 
of  the  specific,  and  arriving  at  the  palace  of  the  prince,  applied 
it  to  his  body  as  the  bird  had  directed,  and  he  was  perfectly 
cured. 


VI. 

Aladdin’s  Wonderful  Lamp. 

Another  Arabian  Variant. 

The  variant  of  Galland’s  story  found  in  the  tale  of  Kariif — 
the  last  in  the  Bulak  and  Calcutta  printed  Arabic  texts  of  the 
‘Book  of  the  Thousand  and  One  Nights’  — had  escaped  my 
memory  for  the  time,  else  I should  have  added  an  abstract  of 
it  to  the  tale  of  the  Fisherman’s  Son  (p.  330  ff.),  from  the 
Wortley  Montague  MS.  of  ‘ The  Nights.’  The  story  of  Mariif  is 
evidently  composed  of  incidents  taken  from  a number  of  separ- 
ate tales,  and  I shall  confine  my  abstract  to  the  portion  which 
resembles  Galland’s  tale  of  Aladdin  : 

Maruf  having  married  the  sultan’s  daughter  “under  false 
pretences  ” — he  had  given  out  that  he  was  a wealthy  merchant 
and  daily  expected  the  arrival  of  his  grand  caravan — the  chief 
vazir,  who  had  all  along  asserted  that  he  was  an  impostor,  at 
length  prevailed  upon  the  king  to  urge  his  daughter  to  wheedle 
out  of  him  the  real  facts  of  the  case.  So  one  night  Mariif  con- 


Aladdin’s  wonderful  lamp. 


471 


fessed  to  her  that  he  was  not  a merchant,  and  that  the  caravan 
had  no  existence.  Upon  this  the  princess,  who  was  fondly  at- 
tached to  Mariif,  said  that,  should  this  come  to  her  father’s  knovr- 
ledge,  his  death  was  certain,  and  he  had  better  fly  at  once  to  a 
distant  land,  and  at  her  father’s  death  she  would  send  for  him. 
She  then  gave  him  a purse  of  gold,  together  with  a mamliik’s 
dress,  and  before  dawn  Maruf  disguised  himself  and  left  the 
city  undiscovered  by  any  one.  In  the  morning  the  princess  in- 
formed her  father  that  Maruf  having  yesterday  received  a letter 
from  the  chief  of  his  caravan  stating  that  it  had  been  plundered 
by  a gang  of  Arabs  to  the  extent  of  two  hundred  bales  of  mer- 
chandise, he  had  set  off  with  the  messenger  to  bring  the  cara- 
van safely  into  the  city,  and  thus  defeat  the  vile  machinations  of 
the  vazir.  The  sultan  believed  the  story,  and  joined  with  his 
daughter  in  reviling  the  minister,  who,  trembling  for  his  head, 
was  forced  to  bear  all  in  silence. 

Meanwhile  Maruf  fared  on,  he  knew  not  whither,  till,  about 
mid-day,  he  came  near  a village,  and  seeing  in  a field  a peasant 
guiding  a plough  drawn  by  oxen,  he  approached  and  asked  him 
for  some  food.  The  man,  supposing  him  to  be  one  of  the  sul- 
tan’s mamliiks,  readily  answered  that  he  would  at  once  proceed 
home  and  fetch  such  as  his  house  could  furnish.  So  saying,  he 
left  his  plough  and  oxen,  and  hastened  to  the  village.  Left  to 
his  own  reflections,  Maruf  thought  that  since  the  man  had 
quitted  his  work  to  oblige  him,  the  least  he  could  do  was  to 
continue  it  for  him.  Scarcely  had  Maruf  ploughed  a furrow 
before  the  ploughshare  struck  against  something  hard  in  the 
ground,  and  while  endeavouring  to  disengage  it,  he  discovered  a 
large  ring  of  iron  fixed  in  a marble  slab.i  His  curiosity  was 
strongly  excited.  He  pulled  the  ring  with  all  his  strength,  and 
raised  up  a slab,  which  turned  on  a hinge.  A few  steps  were 
then  discovered,  which  having  descended,  Maruf  entered  a 
cavern  about  the  size  of  a bath,  and  heaped  on  all  sides  with 
gold,  emeralds,  rubies,  and  other  gems,  beyond  all  price.  This 
place  led  to  other  chambers  containing  vast  riches,  and  the  suite 
terminated  in  an  apartment  in  which  was  nothing  more  than  a 

1 This  incident  occurs  in  several  Eastern  stories — e.g,^  the  tale  of 
Abdullah  of  Khurasan,  in  Malcolm’s  ' Sketches  of  Persia/  ch.  xi. 


472 


APPENDIX. 


coffer  of  crystal,  enclosing  a little  box  made  of  one  entire 
diamond.  Curious  to  know  what  it  contained,  Mariif  opened 
the  box,  and  discovered  a gold  ring,  quite  plain,  except  that 
around  it  some  mysterious  talismanic  characters  were  engraved. 
As  he  was  fitting  this  ring  on  his  finger  he  heard  a voice  ex- 
claiming, “What  wouldst  thou — what  wouldst  thou,  master 
and  he  beheld  at  his  side  a hideous  figure,  with  a most  extra- 
ordinary countenance,  who  continued  to  address  him  in  these 
words  : “ What  are  thy  commands  1 — speak ; I obey  thee.  What 
land  shall  I cover  with  flowers  ? what  kingdom  shall  I ravage  ? 
what  army  shall  I cut  in  pieces  ? what  king  shall  I slay  ? what 
mountains  shall  I level  with  the  valleys  ] what  sea  shall  I lay 
dry  ? — speak  ; I obey.  I am  thy  slave,  by  permission  of  the 
Master  of  spirits,  the  Creator  of  day  and  night  I ” “ What  art 

thou  ? ” asked  Mariif.  “ I am,”  replied  the  figure,  “ a genie,  the 
slave  of  this  ring,  and  of  the  powerful  Name  thereon  engraved. 
To  the  possessor  of  this  ring  I must  submit  myself,  and  execute 
his  commands.  Nothing  exceeds  my  power,  for  I am  a king 
among  the  genii  and  command  seventy-two  tribes,  each  of  which 
is  composed  of  twelve  thousand  genii  of  my  species,  called  Hn, 
Each  Tin  has  under  his  command  one  thousand  ifrits;  every 
ifrit,  one  thousand  shaytans ; and  every  shaytan,  a thousand  in- 
ferior genii.  Over  all  these  I rule  ; but,  mighty  as  I am,  I sub- 
mit to  thee  and  this  ring.  I obey  thee  with  all  I possess,  and 
am  thy  devoted  slave.  Command  ! I hear  thee  and  obey;  with 
the  rapidity  of  lightning  I fulfil  thy  orders.  When  thou  re- 
quirest  my  succour,  be  thou  on  land  or  on  sea,  rub  this  ring, 
invoke  me  by  the  power  of  the  name  engraved  thereon,  and 
thou  shalt  instantly  behold  me.” 

Maruf  then  desired  that  the  treasures  should  be  transported 
to  the  surface  of  the  earth,  and  in  an  instant  the  floor  of  the 
cave  opened,  and  two  young  boys  of  great  beauty  appeared, 
bearing  on  their  heads  baskets  of  gold,  which  they  proceeded  to 
fill  with  the  precious  stones  that  lay  scattered  around.  “ Can 
you  procure  mules  and  coffers  to  transport  this  treasure  ? ” asked 
Mariif.  “Nothing  is  more  easy,”  replied  the  genie,  and  utter- 
ing a loud  cry  he  summoned  all  his  children,  who  were  as 
beautiful  as  the  first  two.  At  the  command  of  their  father, 


ALADDIN  S WONDERFUL  LAMP. 


473 


some  of  these  transformed  themselves  into  mules,  some  into 
mnle-drivers,  and  others  into  mamluks  mounted  on  superb 
horses,  to  guard  the  caravan.  Three  hundred  mules  were  soon 
laden  with  cases,  containing  the  most  precious  gems  and  pure 
gold.  Maruf  then  commanded  his  new  slaves  to  pitch  tents 
and  form  a camp,  to  raise  him  a pavilion  and  serve  up  a repast. 

At  this  moment  the  peasant  arrived  with  a dish  of  lentils, 
some  black  bread,  and  a bag  of  barley.  When  he  saw  the  camp 
and  pavilion  and  the  crowd  of  mamluks  and  mules,  he  imag- 
ined the  sultan  had  arrived,  of  whom  Maruf  had  been  the 
avant-courier.  “ Holy  Prophet ! ” said  he  to  himself,  where- 
fore did  I not  kill  and  cook  my  two  hens  ? The  sultan  will 
cut  off  my  head  in  return  for  this  sorry  fare  ! ” Maruf,  having 
perceived  him,  ordered  one  of  the  mamluks  to  desire  his  pre- 
sence in  the  pavilion.  “ What  hast  thou  got  there  he  asked. 
“Your  dinner  and  that  of  your  horse,”  replied  the  villager. 
“ But  I pray  you,  pardon  me  : had  I known  that  the  sultan 
would  have  halted  here,  I would  have  killed  two  hens  which 
I have  at  home,  and  stewed  them  in  butter.”  “Set  down 
your  lentils,”  replied  Maruf ; “ I am  so  hungry  that  I shall  eat 
them  with  pleasure.  The  sultan  is  not  here  ; but  I am  his 
relation.  You  treated  me  well,  though  you  knew  me  not ; 
therefore  I shall  not  forget  to  be  grateful.”  Maruf  made  his 
dinner  of  the  humble  plate  of  lentils,  notwithstanding  that  the 
genie,  to  tempt  his  appetite,  served  up  the  most  delicious  meats, 
of  such  rich  flavour  that  the  villager  stood  amazed  at  the  sight. 
As  soon  as  Maruf  had  devoured  the  last  lentil  with  much  ap- 
pearance of  appetite,  he  heaped  the  plate  with  gold  and  precious 
stones,  and  returned  it  to  the  astonished  peasant,  who,  declaring 
he  was  enriched  for  life,  then  returned  to  the  village  with  his 
plough  and  oxen,  fully  convinced  that  his  guest  was  the  son  of 
the  sultan. 

Thus  far  after  the  style  of  the  ‘Arabian  Nights,’  but  the 
sequel  must  be  related  with  brevity.  Mariif  having  passed  the 
night  in  feasting  and  beholding  the  dances  of  the  daughters 
of  the  genie,  whom  he  had  summoned  to  amuse  him,  early 
next  morning  set  out  for  the  sultan’s  capital,  with  700  mules 
laden  with  rich  merchandise  and  attended  by  500  mam- 


474 


APPENDIX. 


liiks.  The  vazir  had  just  been  declaring  to  the  sultan 
that  Maruf  was  an  impostor  and  he  would  never  see  his 
face  again,  when  a genie,  disguised  as  a messenger,  arrived,  to 
intimate  the  approach  of  the  sultan’s  son-in-law  at  the  head  of 
his  grand  caravan.  “May  Allah  confound  thy  beard,  traitor 
that  thou  art ! ” exclaimed  the  sultan,  turning  fiercely  to  his 
vazfr.  “Art  thou  not  at  last  convinced,  wretch,  of  the  grandeur 
of  my  son-in-law  ] ” The  vazir,  terror-struck,  threw  himself  on 
his  knees,  and  the  sultan  gave  orders  to  illuminate  the  city. 
On  the  arrival  of  Mariif,  he  caused  the  royal  treasury  to  be 
filled  with  gold  and  gems  and  silks, 'and  other  precious  stuffs. 
The  princess  met  her  husband  with  joy,  and  having  embraced 
him  and  kissed  his  hands,  said  with  a smiling  countenance, 
“ You  have  amused  yourself,  my  lord,  at  my  expense,  by  your 
tale  of  poverty ; you  wished,  doubtless,  to  put  my  affection  to 
the  proof.  Thanks  be  to  Allah,  you  are  happily  restored  to  me  ; 
for  whether  rich  or  poor  you  are  not  less  dear ; I love  yourself, 
not  your  wealth.”  When  the  700  mules  and  the  500  mamluks 
were  found  to  have  disappeared  the  following  morning,  the 
suspicions  of  the  vazfr  were  once  more  aroused — Mariif  could 
certainly  be  no  merchant.  So  he  advised  the  sultan  to  ascer- 
tain the  cause  of  his  great  wealth,  lest  he  should  prove  danger- 
ous to  his  government.  “ Invite  him  to  a banquet,  ply  him 
with  wine,  and  then  question  him  concerning  his  treasures.” 
The  sultan  accordingly  invited  Mariif  to  a grand  feast,  and 
when  he  was  warmed  with  wine,  asked  him  to  relate  his  ad- 
ventures. So  Mariif  in  an  evil  hour  told  the  whole  story.  “ I 
pray  thee,  my  son,”  then  said  the  sultan,  “show  me  this  ring 
of  wonderful  power.”  Mariif  drew  the  ring  from  his  finger, 
and  gave  it  to  the  vazfr,  to  lay  it  before  the  sultan ; but  as 
soon  as  the  vazfr  touched  the  ring,  he  summoned  the  genie  and 
commanded  him  to  convey  Mariif  to  some  desert  and  there 
leave  him  to  perish.  The  genie  immediately  obeyed  the  order 
of  the  new  possessor  of  the  ring.  - Then  the  vazfr  again  sum- 
moned the  genie  and  ordered  him  to  convey  the  sultan  to  the 
same  spot  where  he  had  left  Mariif,  which  being  done,  he  as- 
sembled the  divan  and  compelled  them  to  acknowledge  him  as 
sultan.  The  next  step  of  the  vazfr  was  to  insist  on  marrying 


ALADDIN’S  WONDEKFUL  LAMP. 


475 


the  princess,  who,  being  threatened  with  death  if  she  should 
refuse  compliance,  had  no  resource  but  in  stratagem.  At  a 
banquet  in  the  evening,  she  pretended  that  she  had  long 
secretly  loved  him,  but  she  was  afraid  of  a genie  whom,  she  had 
been  informed,  he  held  captive  in  a ring,  and  if  he  would  con- 
sent to  divest  himself  of  that  terrible  companion,  she  would  be 
his  slave  for  life.  Deceived  by  her  flattering  words,  the  vazir 
drew  the  ring  from  his  finger  and  flung  it  to  a distance.  The 
princess  then  presented  him  with  a cup  full  of  wine,  which  she 
had  first  pressed  to  her  own  lips,  and  he  continued  to  carouse 
till  his  senses  were  utterly  intoxicated,  after  which  the  princess 
Seized  the  ring,  summoned  the  genie,  and  commanded  him  to 
secure  the  vazir  and  restore  her  husband  and  father.  The 
moment  Maruf  and  the  sultan  were  brought  back  to  the  palace 
the  latter  caused  the  vazir’s  head  to  be  struck  off ; but  when  he 
desired  his  daughter  to  give  him  the  ring,  she  replied  that  men 
who  carouse  over  wine-cups  are  not  to  be  trusted  with  unlim- 
ited power,  and  so  she  should  give  it  neither  to  him  nor  her 
husband,  but  keep  it  in  her  own  possession. 

In  this  version,  as  in  Galland  and  the  Story  of  Cajusse 
(p.  314  ff.),  the  talisman  is  not  recovered  by  means  of  grateful 
animals,  which  was  most  probably  the  original  form  of  the  story, 
since  they  play  the  principal  parts  in  the  European  variants,  in 
the  Arabian  tale  of  the  Fisherman’s  Son,  and  in  the  Mongolian 
and  the  Tamil  versions,  a circumstance  which,  as  1 have  before 
remarked,  would  seem  to  indicate  that  the  tale  is  of  Buddhist 
extraction  and  this  conjecture  is  strengthened  by  the  existence 
of  a Burmese  version  in  a story-book  translated  by  Captain  T.  P. 
Sparks,  under  the  title  of  ‘ The  Decisions  of  Princess  Thoo- 
dhamma  Tsari,’  printed  at  Maulmain  in  1851,  which  is  as 
follows  : 

1 Although  the  Fisherman’s  Son  is  represented  as  purchasing  the  dog, 
the  cat,  and  the  rat  in  order  to  divert  his  melancholy  by  their  tricks,  and 
“these  seeming  animals  proved  to  be  magicians,”  we  must  regard  this  as 
a corruption  of  the  Mongolian  story,  in  which  the  hero  buys  the  three 
animals  to  save  them  from  being  tortured.  The  alteration  of  the  Arabian 
compiler  is  very  clumsy,  and  spoils  the  story  to  some  extent. 


476 


APPENDIX. 


Burmese  {Buddhist)  Version, 

During  the  era  of  Gaunag6ng,i  a prince,  a young  noble,  a rich 
man’s  son,  and  a poor  man’s  son  were  being  educated  together 
in  the  country  of  Tekkatho.^  Having  learned  as  much  as  they 
wished,  they  asked  their  teacher  to  discourse  to  them  upon  the 
benefits  resulting  from  a good  quality  to.  its  possessor.  Their 
teacher  then  related  to  them  the  following  story  : 

Soon  after  the  commencement  of  the  world,  there  dwelt  in 
Gahapati  Waytha  four  very  rich  men,  between  whom  there 
existed  the  warmest  friendship,  so  that  each  sought  only  the 
interest  of  the  others.  After  a time  one  of  them  died,  leaving  an 
only  son,  to  whom  his  mother  said,  ‘‘  My  dear  boy,  your  father, 
my  husband,  is  dead,  you  are  therefore  now  in  his  place  and 
are  entitled  to  his  estate ; but  you  are  still  very  young ; go,  there- 
fore, to  your  father’s  three  friends,  and  learn  from  them  wisdom 
and  prudence.”  Thus  saying,  she  gave  him  three  hundred 
pieces  of  money,  and  dismissed  him. 

The  youth  started  on  his  way  to  his  father’s  friends,  with  a 
retinue  of  attendants  befitting  his  station.  As  he  was  journey- 
ing, he  met  a man  with  a dog.  ‘‘  Hey,  fellow,”  said  he,  “ will 
you  sell  your  dog  ? ” The  man  replied,  ‘‘  If  you  want  to  buy 
him,  give  me  a hundred  pieces  for  him.”  The  youth  gave  the 
sum  demanded,  and  sent  the  dog  back  to  his  mother,  with  an 
account  of  what  he  had  done.  Supposing  that  her  son  had 
obtained  the  sanction  of  her  late  husband’s  friends  to  his  pur- 
chase, she  fed  and  tended  the  dog  with  the  greatest  care. 
Another  day,  after  his  mid-day  meal,  he  was  walking  along 
when  he  fell  in  with  a man  who  had  a cat,  which  he  asked  him 
whether  he  would  sell.  ‘‘  You  may  have  her  for  a hundred 
pieces,”  said  the  man.  The  lad  paid  the  money  and  sent  the 

1 The  twenty-fifth  Buddha. 

2 “The  Pali  name  of  Tekkatho  is  Tekkathela  or  Tekkasela,  and  we 
know  that  kha  corresponds  to  the  Sanskrit  ksha,  so  the  Sanskrit  name  is 
Tekshela,  which  is  the  famous  Taxila  of  Ptolemy,  in  the  time  of  Alexander 
the  Great  Hhe  largest  and  wealthiest  city  between  the  Indus  and  the 
Hydaspes.’” — ‘Notes  on  the  Ancient  History  of  Burmah,’  by  the  Rev.  F. 
Mason. 


ALADDIN  S WONDERFUL  LAMP. 


477 


cat  to  his  mother  as  before,  and  she,  under  the  same  impression 
as  in  the  previous  case,  treated  the  cat  with  the  same  attention 
as  she  did  the  dog.  Another  day  he  met  a man  with  an  ichneu- 
mon, which  he  inquired  whether  he  would  part  with.  The  man 
said  he  would,  and  on  being  asked  the  price,  demanded  a hun- 
dred pieces.  The  rich  man’s  son  paid  the  money,  and  sent  the 
ichneumon  to  his  mother,  who,  supposing  as  before,  received 
and  fed  it. 

Now  the  dog  and  the  cat  being  domestic  animals,  she  kept  them 
in  the  house  without  any  fear,  but  the  ichneumon,  being  a wild 
animal,  she  was  in  such  dread  of  it  that  she  wasted  away.  Her 
spiritual  teacher  coming  to  her  house  to  receive  his  meal  of 
cooked  food,  she  went  down  to  give  it  to  him,  when,  on  seeing 
her,  he  exclaimed,  “Why,  my  disciple,  how  thin  you  have 
grown  ! ” He  then  recited  the  eight  accidents  to  which  human 
life  is  liable.^  The  rich  man’s  widow  replied,  “ The  only  reason 
is  this  : having  given  my  son  three  hundred  pieces  of  money 
and  sent  him  to  his  father’s  three  friends  to  learn  how  to 
manage  his  affairs  with  prudence,  one  day  he  sends  me  a dog, 
on  another,  a cat,  and  on  a third,  an  ichneumon,  for  each  of 
which  he  paid  a hundred  pieces.  Now  the  dog  and  the  cat  are 
domestic  animals,  and  I am  not  afraid  of  them  ; but  the  ichneu- 
mon is  a wild  animal,  and  if  I only  look  at  it  even,  I am  so 
frightened  that  my  body,  limbs,  and  eyes  are  all  wasting  away.” 
The  priest  told  her  to  let  the  ichneumon  loose  in  the  jungle, 
and  it  being  wrong  to  disobey  the  commands  of  one’s  teacher  or 
one’s  parents,  she  turned  it  loose,  giving  it  at  the  same  time 
some  food  smeared  over  with  oil  for  its  subsistence. 

On  arriving  at  the  jungle,  the  ichneumon  said  to  himself, 
“ The  rich  man’s  son  gave  a hundred  pieces  for  me,  and  since  I 
have  been  in  his  possession  he  has  had  me  well  fed  and  taken 
care  of,  and  has  been  the  cause  of  my  obtaining  life  and  liberty. 
I will  repay  the  obligation  I am  under  to  my  benefactor.”  Thus 
meditating,  he  took  up  in  his  mouth  a ruby  ring  which  he 
found  in  the  jungle,  and  carrying  it  to  the  rich  man’s  son,  gave 

1 These  are  ; (1)  Success  in  one’s  undertakings ; (2)  dignity  and  splen- 
dour ; (3)  honour  and  fame  ; (4)  happiness  ; and  their  four  opposites. 


478 


APPENDIX. 


it  to  him,  saying,  This  is  no  common  ring  ; it  possesses  the 
power  of  gratifying  every  wish  of  its  owner.  Wear  it  constantly, 
therefore,  on  your  finger,  and  on  no  account  allow  any  one 
else  to  wear  it.  The  ichneumon  then  returned  to  the  jungle. 
And  the  rich  man’s  son  wished,  and  during  the  night  a palace 
with  a pinnacled  roof  rose  up  in  front  of  his  house.  All  the 
people  of  the  country,  from  the  king  downwards,  came  to  see 
this  sight,  and  the  king  gave  him  his  daughter  in  marriage. 

Soon  afterwards  the  princess’  teacher  came  to  see  if  he 
could  discover  the  prince’s  talisman.  He  looked,  hut  could  see 
nothing  except  the  ring.  Watching  his  opportunity,  on  one 
occasion  when  the  prince  had  gone  out,  he  entered  the  palace, 
and  after  making  flattering  speeches  to  the  princess,  asked  her 
whether  her  husband  loved  her.  ^^How  can  you  ask  such  a 
question  as  that  ? ” replied  she.  “ He  is  only  a rich  man’s  son, 
while  I am  the  daughter  of  the  king.”  If  he  loves  you  so 
much,  you  have  been,  perhaps,  allowed  to  wear  his  ring  ? ” 
insinuated  the  Brahman.  “If  I have  not  worn  it,”  returned 
she,  “ pray  who  should  ? ” After  this  the  Brahman  retired.  A 
day  or  two  later,  the  princess  asked  her  husband  to  let  her  wear 
his  ring,  and  he,  being  extremely  attached  to  her,  took  it  off 
and  gave  it  to  her,  at  the  same  time  charging  her  not  to  show  it 
to  any  one,  but  to  wear  it  constantly  on  her  finger. 

One  day,  when  the  rich  man’s  son  had  gone  out,  the  Brahman 
came  again  and  addressed  her  with  his  usual  smooth  phrases. 
She  said,  “ I have  got  the  ring  you  spoke  about  the  other  day.” 
“ Have  you  ? ” cried  he.  “ Where  is  it  “ Here,”  she  replied, 
displaying  it.  He  begged  of  her  earnestly  to  take  it  off  and  let 
him  examine  it;  and  at  last,  on  her  nurse,  who  was  present, 
persuading  her  to  yield  to  her  teacher’s  importunity,  she  took  it 
off  and  gave  it  to  him.  The  instant  the  Brahman  received  it 
he  changed  himself  into  a crow  and  flew  away  to  the  middle  of 
the  ocean,  whither  no  one  could  follow  him,  and  there  dwelt  in 
a pinnacled  palace. 

When  her  husband  returned,  and  heard  that  the  Brahman 
had  taken  the  ring,  he  said  to  her,  “ You  showed  the  ring,  al- 
though I particularly  charged  you  not  to  do  so  ; and  the  con- 
sequence is  that  it  is  now  in  the  midst  of  the  sea,  where  I can 


ALADDIN'S  WONDERFUL  LAMP. 


479 


never  recover  it.^’  After  speaking  these  words,  he  remained 
brooding  over  his  loss. 

One  day  a party  of  the  daughters  of  the  Nats^  came  to  bathe 
in  a tank  covered  with  water-lilies,  not  far  from  the  place  where 
the  rich  man’s  son  dwelt,  and  having  taken  off  their  necklaces 
they  laid  them  down  on  the  bank ; there  the  cat  found  them, 
and  picking  them  up,  ran  away  and  hid  them.  The  daughters 
of  the  Nats  came  to  the  cat  and  begged  her  to  return  the  neck- 
laces, saying  they  were  only  fit  for  Nats,  not  for  mortals.  The 
cat  said,  “ If  I do,  you  must  make  a road  for  me  to  travel  to  the 
place  where  the  Brahman  is  living  in  his  palace  in  the  midst  of 
the  ocean ; on  this  condition  only  will  I restore  them.”  ^ So  the 
daughters  of  the  Nats  made  the  road,  and  the  cat  crept  stealthily 
along  it  until  she  arrived  at  the  palace,  where  she  found  the 
Brahman  asleep,  with  the  ring  on  his  finger.  She  then  slipped 
off  the  ring,  brought  it  back,  and  delivered  it  to  her  master,  in 
return  for  his  kindness,  saying,  “ You  paid  a great  price  for  me, 
and  have  fed  and  taken  care  of  me  ever  since.”  As  for  the 
Brahman,  he  fell  into  the  sea  and  was  drowned  ; while  the  rich 
man’s  son,  being  once  more  in  possession  of  the  ring,  had  every 
wish  he  formed  gratified. 

After  a time  a band  of  five  hundred  robbers  came  to  kill  the 
rich  man’s  son  and  take  away  his  ring.  The  dog,  perceiving  that 
they  had  come  to  kill  his  master,  who  had  purchased  him  at  so 
high  a price  and  treated  him  so  kindly,  flew  at  the  leader  of 
the  band  and  bit  him  to  death,  and  threw  his  body  down  a well. 
Seeing  this,  the  rest  of  the  robbers  fled  in  dismay. 

Next  morning  the  dog  said  to  his  master,  I had  no  sleep  last 
night ; I had  hard  work  to  do  ” ; and  on  being  asked  to  explain, 
he  related  how  the  robbers  came  to  slay  his  master,  and  how  he 
had  killed  their  chief,  and  thereby  put  the  rest  to  flight,  adding, 
“ In  return  for  the  many  favours  you  have  conferred  upon  me^ 

1 The  inferior  celestial  regions  are  inhabited  by  Nats,  beings  who 
occupy  the  same  place  in  Buddhist  belief  that  fairies,  genii  {jinn),  dfvs, 
peris,  yakshas,  etc.  hold  in  European,  Arabian,  Persian,  and  Hindu 
superstitions. 

2 Maidens  of  this  order  of  semi-celestial  beings  cannot  leave  the  earth, 
apparently,  without  their  necklaces,  like  the  daughters  of  theymTi,  when 
their  garments  are  seized  by  a human  being. 


480 


APPENDIX. 


I have  preserved  your  life  and  your  property.”  ‘‘Ah,”  replied 
the  rich  man’s  son,  “ all  men  reviled  me  for  giving  a hundred 
pieces  for  you  who  are  but  an  animal,  but  I owe  all  my  pro- 
sperity to  three  animals,  each  of  whom  I purchased  at  that 
price.”  Thus  saying,  he  went  into  the  jungle,  brought  back  the 
ichneumon,  and  kept  him  in  the  house. 

Now  the  ichneumon,  the  dog,  and  the  cat  each  asserted  it  had 
a right  to  eat  before  the  others.  The  ichneumon,  because  he 
was  the  first  to  give  the  ring  to  their  master.  The  cat,  because, 
when  the  gift  which  the  ichneumon  had  made  to  their  master 
had  fallen  into  the  hands  of  the  Brahman,  she,  by  taking  the 
necklaces  of  the  daughters  of  the  Nats,  and  by  means  of  the  road 
which  they  made  for  her,  had  recovered  the  ring,  and  was  thus 
the  cause  of  their  master’s  happiness.  The  dog,  because,  when 
five  hundred  robbers  came  to  strip  the  rich  man’s  son  of  what 
the  others  had  given  him  and  to  take  his  life,  he  killed  their 
chief,  and  cast  him  into  the  water,  whereupon  the  rest  of  the 
band  fled.  “ And  thus,”  said  the  dog,  “ I am  the  preserver  not 
only  of  our  master’s  wealth,  but  of  his  life  also.” 

Thus  disputing,  they  agreed  to  submit  their  cases  to  the  de- 
cision of  the  Princess  Thoo-dhamma  Tsari,  the  daughter  of  King 
Dhammarit,  who  dwelt  at  Madarft,  in  the  kingdom  of  Kam- 
bautsa,  in  a pavilion  with  one  pillar  in  the  centre,^  who  pos- 
sessed a perfect  acquaintance  with  the  ten  laws,^  and  was  deeply 
versed  in  the  civil  and  criminal  codes,  the  fame  of  whose  wisdom 
had  spread  to  the  eight  quarters  of  the  world,  ^ so  that  the  illus- 
trious of  every  nation  came  to  her  for  judgment. 

1 Pavilions  of  this  form  are  only  allowed  to  certain  females  of  the  Bur- 
mese royal  family. 

2 These  are : (1)  To  make  religious  offerings ; (2)  to  observe  the  Five 
Precepts ; (3)  to  be  charitable ; (4)  to  be  upright ; (5)  to  be  mild  and 
gentle  ; (6)  not  to  give  way  to  anger  ; (7)  to  be  strict  in  the  performance 
of  all  jreligious  ceremonies ; (8)  not  to  oppress ; (9)  to  exercise  self- 
restraint  ; (10)  not  to  be  familiar  with  inferiors.  The  Five  Precepts  of 
Buddha  referred  to  in  the  second  of  these  ten  laws  are : (1)  not  to 
do  murder ; (2)  not  to  steal ; (3)  not  to  commit  adultery  ; (4)  not  to  drink 
intoxicating  liquors ; (5)  not  to  do  anything  evil. 

3 The  four  cardinal  points,  and  North-East,  North-West,  South-East, 
and  South-West  are  called  the  eight  faces,”  or  quarters,  of  the  world. 


ALADDIN  S,  WONDERFUL  LAMP. 


481 


The  three  animals  having  appeared  before  the  princess,  the 
ichneumon  opened  the  case  : A rich  man’s  son  paid  a hundred 
pieces  of  money  for  me,  fed  and  tended  me  well,  and  gave  me 
my  liberty  in  the  jungle.  Bearing  this  in  mind,  and  because 
he  was  my  benefactor,  I gave  him  a ruby  ring,  by  means  of 
which  he  obtained  a pinnacled  palace  which  sprang  up  out  of 
the  earth  ; therefore  I am  entitled  to  take  precedence  of,  and 
eat  before,  the  dog  and  the  cat.”  The  cat,  in  turn,  related  how 
that  when  the  Brahman  had  gained  possession  of  the  ring  which 
the  ichneumon  had  given  their  master,  she  recovered  it,  and  so 
was  the  cause  of  his  present  good  fortune.  After  her,  the  dog 
stated  his  case,  saying,  When  robbers  came  to  take  from  our 
master  the  ring  which  the  ichneumon  had  given  him,  and 
which,  when  lost,  was  restored  to  him  by  the  cat,  I killed  their 
chief,  and  the  remainder  of  the  band  fled.  Thus  I preserved  not 
only  my  master’s  wealth  but  his  life  also,  and  therefore  I ought 
to  have  precedence  over  the  two  others.” 

When  they  had  ended.  Princess  Thoo-dhamma  Tsari  thus  pro- 
nounced her  decision  : The  dog,  in  addition  to  saving  his 
master’s  treasures,  also  prolonged  his  life ; therefore  he  is  en- 
titled to  the  first  place  among  you  ; but  verily  among  animals 
there  are  none  who  understand  how  to  repay  a debt  of  gratitude 
as  you  do.” 

Thus  ends  the  story  of  the  dog,  the  cat,  and  the  ichneumon, 
from  which  you  may  learn,  that  although  man  is  superior  to 
animals,  yet  kindness  towards  them  does  not  go  unrequited. 

As  almost  all  Burmese  story-books  are  translations  from  the 
Pali,i  ^0  ]2iay  consider  the  foregoing  as  representing  the  Bud- 
dhist prototype  of  Galland’s  tale  of  Aladdin.  Here,  as  in  the 
Mongolian,  first-cited  Arabian  (the  Fisherman’s  Son),  Bohemian, 
Albanian,  and  Greek  versions,  the  number  of  befriended  and 

1 The  translators  have  a curious  method  of  doing  their  work.  Instead 
of  composing  continuously  in  their  vernacular  (says  Captain  Sparks),  a 
few  words  of  Pali  are  written,  and  then  their  meaning  in  Burmese  ; then 
a few  more  Pali  words,  followed  by  their  interpretation,  and  so  on  through 
the  whole  book,  after  the  fashion  called  at  school  “ construing.” 

VOL.  I.  2 H 


482 


APPENDIX. 


grateful  animals  is  three.  In  the  Tamil  story  there  are  but 
two — the  snake,  through  which  the  hero  obtains  the  talisman, 
and  the  cat,  which  recovers  it  from  the  king  of  Cochin-China. 
It  is  interesting  to  see  how  the  chief  incidents  are  reproduced  in 
the  several  versions.  In  Aladdin  the  princess  parts  with  the 
“ old  ” lamp  for  a new  one  ; in  the  Fisherman’s  Son,  the  ring  is 
exchanged  for  a basket  of  jewels ; in  the  Mongolian  story,  the 
hero  very  foolishly  barters  his  talisman  for  the  merchants’  goods 
and  money.  But  in  the  Bohemian,  Greek,  and  Danish  versions, 
the  princess,  who  does  not  love  the  hero,  her  husband,  steals  the 
talisman ; this  is  done  by  a Jew  in  the  Albanian ; in  the  Tamil, 
by  an  old  hag,  who,  like  the  Brahman  in  the  Burmese  story, 
artfully  obtains  possession  of  it  from  the  princess.  In  all  the 
versions,  with  the  exception  of  the  Burmese,  the  magically- con- 
structed palace  is  transported  to  a great  distance — to  the  heart 
of  Africa,  an  island  in  the  midst  of  the  sea,  or  to  the  sea-shore. 
The  underground  cave  in  the  story  of  Maruf  has  its  counter- 
part in  that  of  Aladdin,  while  the  wicked  vazir  plays  the  part 
of  the  African  magician — with  a difference.  From  whatever 
source  Galland  may  have  derived  his  tale,  it  is  very  evident, 
from  the  Bohemian,  Albanian,  and  Greek  variants,  that  it 
came  to  Europe  in  a form  closely  resembling  the  Mongolian, 
Tamil,  and  Burmese  versions. 


YII. 

The  Magical  Conflict. 

My  friend  Mr  E.  J.  W.  Gibb  has  kindly  furnished  me  with 
the  following  Turkish  version  of  the  Magical  Conflict  (referred 
to  in  p.  432),  from  his  forthcoming  translation  of  the  romance  of 
‘ The  Forty  Yazirs  ’ : 

It  is  related  that  there  was  a woman  in  the  city  of  Cairo,  and 
that  woman  had  a worthless  son,  who,  no  matter  to  what  trade 
she  put  him,  did  no  good.  One  day  the  woman  said  to  the 
youth,  My  son,  what  trade  shall  I give  thee  ? ” The  youth 
replied,  Take  me  along  with  thee,  let  us  go  ; and  whatever 


THE  MAGICAL  CONFLICT. 


483 


trade  I like,  to  that  do  tkou  give  me.”  And  that  woman  and 
her  son  went  to  the  bazaar,  and  while  they  were  walking  about 
they  saw  a geomancer,  and  the  youth  observed  that  geomancer 
and  liked  him.  Thereupon  the  woman  made  him  over  to  him, 
and  the  geomancer  took  the  youth  and  began  to  show  him  the 
principles  of  geomancy.  After  some  days  the  master  said  to  the 
youth,  To-morrow  I will  become  a ram ; sell  me,  but  take 
heed  and  give  not  my  rope.”  The  youth  said,  ‘‘Very  good.” 
The  master  became  a ram,  and  the  youth  took  and  led  him  to 
the  bazaar  and  sold  him  for  a thousand  aspres  ; but  he  gave  not 
the  rope,  but  took  it  away  with  him,  and  returned.  When  it 
was  evening  his  master  appeared.  After  some  days  the  master 
said,  ‘‘Now,  youth,  to-morrow  I will  become  a horse  ; take  and 
sell  me,  but  take  heed  and  give  not  my  headstall.”  And  he 
became  a horse,  and  the  youth  took  him  and  sold  him,  but  gave 
not  the  headstall ; and  he  took  the  money  and  went  to  his  own 
house.  When  it  was  evening  his  master  came  to  his  house  and 
saw  the  youth  was  not  there,  and  he  said,  “ He  will  come  in  the 
morning,”  and  went  to  bed.  On  the  other  hand,  the  youth  went 
to  his  mother  and  said,  “ 0 mother,  to-morrow  I will  become  a 
dove  ; sell  me,  but  take  heed  and  give  not  my  key.”  And  he 
became  a dove  without  peer  ; and  the.  woman  put  the  dove  up 
to  auction,  and  the  bidders  began  to  raise  their  bids  at  the  rate 
of  five  piastres.  But  this  dove,  which  spake  the  language  of  the 
people  of  that  city,  acquired  such  fame  as  cannot  be  described. 
Now,  as  every  one  was  speaking  of  the  qualities  of  this  dove,  his 
master  heard  and  came ; and  as  soon  as  he  saw  him  he  knew 
him  to  be  the  youth,  and  he  said,  “ Out  on  thee,  misbegotten 
wretch,  thou  doest  a deed  like  this  and  I whole ; now  see  what 
I will  do  to  thee.”  And  he  went  and  bought  him  from  the 
woman.  The  woman  said,  “ I will  not  give  the  key.”  Quoth 
the  master,  “ Take  fifty  piastres  more,  and  go  and  buy  another 
key  such  as  thou  pleasest.”  And  he  gave  her  the  whole  sum  ; 
and  the  woman  was  greedy  and  took  it,  and  drew  the  key  from 
her  girdle  and  threw  it  on  the  ground.  As  soon  as  the  key  fell, 
it  became  a pigeon  and  began  to  fiy,  and  the  master  became  a 
hawk  and  pursued  the  pigeon.  While  these  were  flying  along, 
the  king  was  seated  in  the  plain  taking  his  pleasure ; and  the 


484 


APPENDIX. 


youth  looked  and  saw  no  escape,  and  he  became  a red  rose  and 
fell  in  front  of  the  king.  And  the  king  wondered  and  said, 
“ What  means  a rose  out  of  season  ? ” and  he  took  it  in  his  hand. 
Then  the  master  became  a minstrel,  and  he  came  to  the  king’s 
party,  with  a mandolin  in  his  hand,  and  sang  a stave  with  a 
sweet  voice.  And  the  king  marvelled  and  said  to  the  minstrel, 
“ What  desirest  thou  from  me  1 ” The  minstrel  answered,  What 
I desire  from  thee  is  the  rose  that  is  in  thy  hand.”  The  king 
said,  The  rose  came  to  me  from  God ; ask  something  else.” 
The  minstrel  was  silent  ; then  he  sang  another  stave,  and  again 
the  king  said,  “ What  desirest  thou  from  me  1 ” Again  the  min- 
strel asked  the  rose  ; and  this  time  the  king  stretched  out  his 
hand  to  give  it  him,  whereupon  the  rose  fell  to  the  ground  and 
became  millet.  Then  the  minstrel  became  a cock,  and  began  to 
pick  up  the  millet.  One  grain  of  the  millet  was  hidden  under 
the  king’s  knee  ; and  that  grain  became  a man,  and  seized  the 
cock  and  tore  off  its  head.  And  the  king  and  the  nobles  won- 
dered, and  they  asked  the  youth  of  these  matters,  and  he  ex- 
plained them  to  them. 

It  will  be  observed  that  this  version  differs  materially  from  all 
others  in  some  of  the  details,  especially  in  representing  the  mas- 
ter, not  the  pupil,  as  turning  himself  into  a ram  and  a horse  for 
sale.  The  rope  and  the  bridle,  however,  as  in  the  Norse  and 
Italian  variants,  are  not  to  be  given  into  the  bargain.  For  the 
apple  in  the  Albanian  story  we  have  here  a red  rose.  The  grain 
of  millet  and  the  cock  are  metamorphoses  which  occur  in  most  of 
the  versions.  But  there  is  some  obscurity  in  the  transformation 
of  the  key — of  the  dove’s  cage  ? — into  a “ pigeon.”  What  became 
of  the  wonderful  dove  (the  youth  thus  self-changed)  after  the 
master  had  bought  it  ? The  incident  of  the  woman’s  casting  the 
key  on  the  ground,  with  its  result,  has  its  parallel  in  Straparola’s 
story,  in  which,  by  the  hero’s  counsel,  the  princess  dashes  the 
ruby  ring  against  the  wall,  when  it  turns  into  a pomegranate, 
which  bursts,  and  the  seeds  are  scattered  about ; also  in 
the  Albanian  version,  in  which  the  queen  tosses  the  apple  to  the 
pretended  dervishes,  when  it  instantly  becomes  millet.  In  the 
Tamil  version  (p.  438),  the  hero,  having  changed  himself  into 


THE  MAGICAL  CONFLICT. 


485 


a pearl  of  the  princess’s  necklace,  when  the  latter  is  required 
of  her,  she  scatters  the  pearls  in  the  courtyard,  and  they  at  once 
become  worms — an  incident  to  which  that  of  the  rosary  in  the 
Mongolian  variant  bears  some  analogy.  The  grain  of  millet,  in 
the  Turkish  version,  becoming  transformed  into  a man,  who 
kills  the  cock,  seems  a reflection  of  the  catastrophe  of  the  Mon- 
golian story  (p.  435),  from  an  earlier  form  of  which  it  was 
probably  derived. 


END  OF  THE  FIRST  VOLUME. 


PRINTED  BY  WILLIAM  BLACKWOOD  AND  SONS. 


lilBiiPiffiMii 


